Staring through the horizon,
delighting another taste of solace
as if detached from the world around,
life flashes before me
like a prose weaving its sense
in the course of writing.
I traverse everyday life
with only my entirety
to unearth the essence of my being,
my worth as a grain of sand
amid the sahara.
Until strokes
jibe with gyrating waves,
until clauses
scrape the cream of depths,
until difference is made,
I remain a quilt of words
still weaving a thought.
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