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Cass Ransom

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Guardian of the door

Guardian of the door

February 13, 2026

The dogs protect the door

Letting me know who comes near 

For behind dead wood I am frail, expunged.. expanding 

Beasts of teeth guard the door 

As wet sheets drape over branches, my body gives into gravity. 

Hanging in the light

The heaviness falls away one drop at a time 

Washed of impurity stains remember

Frail plain weave 

I am but a covering this is not my body 

Still the dogs protect the door.

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