the space is hard to find
because it exists between the places we go on purpose
less a destination
than a place I found myself
have I been before...or is it new each time?
what is an old experience, but a new one with expectations?
I want to be here, and then the wanting takes me out
intention can really spoil things, huh -
no wonder then, that play should be taken playfully
rhyming words, riding alongside an unteachable moment
that they may outlive an explanation
is the property of life, cherished or not.
where then is the space for anything else?
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