so
that it doesn't touch your
soul?
How can I raise it high enough, past you,
to other things?
I would like to shelter it, among
remote lost objects, in some dark and silent place
that doesn't resonate when your depths resound.
Yet everything that touches us, me and you, takes us together like a violin's bow,
Yet everything that touches us, me and you, takes us together like a violin's bow,
which
draws -one- voice out of two separate strings.
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