something, then, if
sensation, certainly
beyond a feeling, where
words have yet to be formed,
to be
thoughtspoken, but
they're water so
they're within us
and all over the place,
this place, this
planet like a spinning tear
dropping
out of some galactic eye
in a candy shop
full of children.
some
thing, then, in
the realm of sense, as
internal cognition, familiar
like family. i am
a time bridge, spanning
a river, mysterious
bloody ancient
present and futuring,
connecting the shores
of some distant then
to this here now, this
here now, this here and now
these two better halves
of myself becoming
themselves.
is this what love
is? but be
yond words?...
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