I've never looked.
Never seen it.
That space below.
Not studied.
Not made friends.
It's appreciated by some.
Yearned for by others.
A myth.
A legend.
A small tale.
Carried with me like a storybook.
My trap.
My Pandora's Tool Box.
My junk yard.
A promise.
A mistake.
A truth.
Poet Mother
Warm Wet
Tender Pink
Soft Still
Tight like brothers
Silent Weary
Tough Tantalizing
Painter Artist
Drawing out your stars.
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