I’m not sure
there is anything more beautiful
than feeling the feeling
of someone sharing their feelings
through a gentle touch,
a tear,
a glance,
a gesture,
a word,
a silence,
a smile,
a cry,
a laugh,
a hug.

All my life,
I imagined the song of myself
wafting through various pastures,
past sunsets and sunrises,
through mountains and rivers
and streams,
these dreams
carried me to a sense of self I thought belonged to me.

What am I really?
Am I dancing alone?
Are my experiences of myself
more real than those experienced by others?

When I am held by another,
I feel my self in ways
I cannot experience alone.

I still dream I might
discover a new melody
in the song that is myself,
but I no longer necessarily think
it must be me who sings it.

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