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I remember the contours of your thought more than any one thing. Quiet smiles, drawn out and peppered with tiny points that irritate and vex, a succulent seasoning always landed in the best place by surprise. And the deeper voice, longing to escape its uniformity, buried in a thousand tasks. I am left wondering, is confusion cured by embracing that reasonable state, where destinations, made to order, fit snugly as I remember you sitting there? Or is it worse knowing all that must be done from now, on past tomorrow, and further, to replace confusion with a narrow madness aligned automatically clear out to the end? Whatever the cause, now you are free to live beyond an intention only the smallest fraction left to yourself, ever desired to begin with – free as you always are when growth and uncertainty are one, and the delayed fear of an unknown heart is revealed, beating as it always appears but stronger, confident in the new chance.
Well, I must comment on the last stanza because it is breathtaking. It is almost a poem by itself, a testament of hope, self-awareness, the vision of wholeness (quaternity). Very beautiful.
Thank you Noelle. I wish I could have devoted more time to this one.