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I dialled the rain for my incarnation, 
i became a hive for the bees, 
soil for the trees, 
i glimpsed another world 
and passed through my migration. 
I walked the earth looking for 
the debris of my being, 
i wanted to know if 
i really did exist, 
i ached for evidence 
that i really was missed. 
The night turned me 
into my own death certificate 
written in braille, 
the rains became my eyes 
translating me so i could not 
fail to see i was an invention.