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Replying to a comment on:
Outliers (Free verse) by nypoet22
We stole these moments
We stole this breath
We count the air
From birth to death
We count the air
Until we die
But humans cannot
Count that high
We count forward and back
Until the questions fade
We all believe
Enough and more
Than one can diminish
Or ignore, our world upended
Disbelief willingly suspended.
Faith on one side
Flesh on the other
Choose to begin a new bag
I am here to be here,
Existence creates its own purpose.
I want anything I see
To touch it
To know it
Embrace the internally unfamiliar.
I want company for the journey.
Letting go is both the hardest question
And the linchpin to all the others.
What will I let go?
In three words:
I
Don't
Know
Knowing if I have
Everything I want
Is an answer I hope
Never to have,
Knowing will mean
That my want has found a limit
A wall beyond which
My imagination will not climb.
The day I have all I want
Is the day I cease to imagine more, want more.
That's the day, the minute, the nanosecond
I begin to die.
Even when my flesh is melted minerals
Dissolved in the soil,
Never let me have wanted so little
That it could all be had.
On that day,
the rotting corpse of my imagination
Will say
I shall rest and leave the wanting to others.
I know who I am
By my name, by any of my faces I am
That is the important part
I am!
Asking the identities
Of other members of a group
Is describing the grapefruit
By its peel
Not ever shaving the zest
Inhaling the citrus tingle
Tasting the tart sliding to sweet
Bitter and sweet again
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