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The Bubble

The Bubble

Our words to each other

Are poor feeble tools

Unwieldy, inefficient, inaccurate

Yet they built something

We fumbled yes

It’s part of our practice

And make me feel hope

That when we meet

We find ourselves

In a place where all else disappears

Except the two of us

Our minds

Our emotions

Mixing

Like water in a bowl

A place where words dissolve

Like mints

Into their true feelings

And our minds as one

Find a place

Outside space and time

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