At midsummer, I left myself.

Like a ship finding itself completely safe

To travel in the waters, I was no longer



I stared at the outlines of mountains

being caressed by sunlight, and knew

that I was no longer searching a similar

intimate touch.


The durable people would have stayed.

Nothing within me roared ferociously:

Only quiet thoughts that dissipated like smoke

the moment they were thought.


A little chime brought me back.

It was obtrusive to myself, so I returned.

I never left myself.

But I would.

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