she sits, ponders,
wonders why it always makes more sense
from across the room,
constantly observing
others
clinging to remnants
fatigued inspiration,
she feels, overwhelmed,
knowing this is just the beginning,
or rather, this is just now,
never begun,
a constant search
for beauty in shrapnel,
harmonies in chaos,
love.


if there is no end,
we can never fail.


november 2004


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