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In the soil, I remembered love. You wake in the soil. Not above it. Within. Your mouth is filled with ash and roots. You do not breathe, for you do not remember how. The sun is not where you left it. It is lower now; closer, tired and watching. You feel its heat in your bones, but you do not warm. You are being remembered. There is a name under your tongue. Not yours. Older. When you speak it, the worms in your skull begin to sing. You join them. You have always known the me