the voice from here and beyond
Stumbling
over me
I am not ready
for distribution
I am
An unfinished metaphor
of the heart
lines that trace wisdom through time
I become your broken kōan
your uncertain allegory
Paraphrase me over the years
unable to make sense of my stories
Let me be your tangled prose
your tortured parables
I am
unready
but that does not matter
So out I go
into the night
unready
unfinished
yours
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