Cut the Key/ The Key Cutter

Do not give me the key, I fear

I will lose it. Leave it tucked in

some tree some beach some

clifftop some peace

ful pocket of existence to

muddy, rust and salt. Be

picked up by some other

lusting for nothing someone

walking on the pathless dust I

once stomped upon. This


is of and of no

great importance. The idea

of a key opens nothing but


imprisonment. keeps us


just out of reach. Yes this idea

of seeking keeps us


missing, keeps us from




the key is already within us

seeking us,


sleep silly,



there is only stillness

in the insignificant

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