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The moon is full as your heart,

And white as your lips were,

When time kissed them.

What are you anyway?

A figment of my mind?

A tear on my skin?

A speck in time,

A memory?

A lie?

You don't seem real yet,

I feel you every time this quill pushes

Words into this unaddressed letter.

I feel you every time my eyes close-

And let my dreams consume me.

I feel you every time I breathe.

As if you're the one who keeps my heart beating.

But I don't see you.

I never saw you.

Won't you tell me your name?

I hear a laugh.

I hear a cry.

I hear sorrow brimming with joy.

I hear insignificance dressed in abstractness.

I hear myself.

And I know,

That is what your name is-

Poetry.

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