I have nothing to give
these words must float as clouds, like fog, obscuring light
because you must be looking past them, for the meaning
or for me
and I can't offer those
except through words,
and those not chosen but found, not arranged but scattered,
like crumbs
like crumbs
what would you even ask?
what answer?
if you read aloud, perhaps?
but even then. the worlds around you
are louder than these words.
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