The answer only ever asked a question:
Anyone might be a miracle continuously reborn into cupped hands, however might all but an iota spill over would it seem love-soaked, or tragically,magically never nothing or something?
These gestures may be drowned, but they are all I have.
Do I de-exist?

I say no.
I say no to throwing my shoulder to the dust, to what-ifs and how-coulds and make-believes. I say no to my haunted dreams. I say no to my tired, taut shaking body and to the anguish of fear.
I hold dear to what is real and to this brief crackle of wet thunder.

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