UNION

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I know of a mountain
Where wild honey grows.
No bee ever touched it
Its birth no one knows.

Her dwelling is that mountain.
Her hair on the crest.
Her feet at the base
Her heart on the breast.

She devours the sweet honey
In the dusk and the morn.
In honey she bathes,
In honey she’s born.

There is no separation.
They’re the same, the three.
The mountain is the honey,
The honey is she.

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