Your Instantaneous Self

because you are a poet
and I love you
and I know you love words
	are what to you?
		a long canyon with brown walls
		vanishing to a speck
		a cross section of blue
			Does it wave
			is it turquoise
		did the stars just now
		twitch into existence

		Or are words an interpretation of
			a purple shadowy tempest
			always at your heels
			within which swirl the
			symbols that hint at
			your instantaneous self

				Do you reach in?
				and arrange these
					and textures
				into a sentence
					that glows of ancient script
					dancing through your vision	

	Do words make that make sense?

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