poetry explains
that which cannot be easily seen
that which is all but visible
You are silent
No one will know you were here
how you sit
somewhere in the back of my laughter
in its tilt
the groans in their dissolvement
sound of me sending out echos looking for you,
you looking for yourself
No one will know you were ever here
will assume that you were never here
and will wonder why everything humorous about me
seems a lot sadder than it used to.
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