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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