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FIGMENT
Asking myself, can this be real
I search for reasons not to believe...
...no longer naive,
it feels suspect...
...how can this be anything
but a dream?
A life of yearning
for an intangible,
an ideal,
for one who
knows
me
without
even
trying...
It can't be.
It isn't supposed to exist.
But, here you are.
I have always known you...
...in my mind, in my heart,
in my soul,
are you
now
manifest?
Tell me now...
...can I believe?
K. Tate Jacoby
copyright September 2004
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FIGMENT
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