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The Violin

There’s an extra string to the violin

in this concert of togetherness,

where there are no shadows

as thoughts speak to each other.


Our lives are stretched across all this,

while embryonic movements gather,

as figures on the canvas of life,

distances dissolve into togetherness,


In the quiet play of the violin,

with no alien sound to the ears,

nothing could feel so sublime,

as this magnitude of language.


In this unshaped friendship,

there’s an extra string to the violin.

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