You will never find a whole soul in a verse.
Just some nuggets resting on scattered words
on some pages,
ready to enter another mind
and create new proposals.
Suggestions hidden from the true recipient.
...Each sentence a cloth dusting off a memory,
every memory a small child's medal,
every now and then some joy will weave a fine garment for the heart.
It's not like words will ever describe a feeling,
because no matter how many times you read them
–even from the upside–
you will never understand what they are trying to say.
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