Shownotes
I don't need therapy, I am a Puerto Rican
Another day, no rich reserves in me
Beside my shining owl, in this last ring
Will shine as a lark on a sudden nest,
Both mist and dream and dream before the soul?
Perhaps they dream of danger in a sphere,
Something in the storm of Science to the sky.
Earth was breath'd upon a visible star:
Rose the dim living cloud, a limpid tide.
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