A hand that etches into being
memories and pictures
like the faithful tool it is.
……………………….
He asked: What is a text?
And how it came to be.
She said: A ramdom thought
and one strange smile
A laugh, a pen, a while.
And sleep was keen,
the writer dreamed
and so the word was caught.
That is the key.
For now, for this thing to be next.
Love, SS
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