The Poor

I am the poor.
Paurve. Impoverished. Sickly and invalid.
I am man.
What I do has no cause or effect.
Only what I attribute value has value.
To go beyond is to invite darkness.
Wishing from within to comprehend.
I came here to write but one thing-
but I, I forgot. I’ve come to the conclusion.
Memory is fickle, foresight is tragic.
In the moment is where beauty lies.
And this is what I call magic.
So here is.
Here be.
So resides.
A story in full.


Introducing himself.
Introduced herself.
They individually identified, and touched.
Confirming their reality.

A true moment did occur between them.
The chemistry and registry of the universe fed back to them and itself.
Sight to hearing and finally touch.
There is the moment relayed.
Beautiful action.

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