today, I want to say...
what is a space for us to express ourselves?
sadly, my words, fail me, soon after the utterance.
I should write an apology.
what for? to whom? we stop knowing what it means to write to someone.
I should write a love letter.
And we find ourselves, deep in love, but shallow in saying, writing the words...
what are we writing about?
severely handicapped, patience is a sought-after virtue.
After writing, I often ask myself where my words went.
and to my horror, I have been mute all the while.
who do I write to? The finished article eludes me.
honour me in a manner that means less to the present.
shadows surround, round the pines that twirl around the former trunk.
Many have come and go.
soon, we find it, hard to let go.
i, pursue, the.
the, definitive, article.
the, definitive, article.
maybe, that is why I write.
a treasure without a treasure map.
So I invent one, I chart out one, one that takes over the image in my map.
let us navigate,
the syntax, the structure, the semantics,
and the coordinates of meaning...
will still elude us.
patience, I say.
everyone will have a last word, a last voice.
(they are different.)
I write, patience.
remind me again,
what am I writing?
a treasure without a treasure map.
So I invent one, I chart out one, one that takes over the image in my map.
let us navigate,
the syntax, the structure, the semantics,
and the coordinates of meaning...
will still elude us.
patience, I say.
everyone will have a last word, a last voice.
(they are different.)
I write, patience.
remind me again,
what am I writing?
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