In the empty space
between the lines
the past resolves,
meaning dissolves.
The words divulged
seem contrived, controlled
concede their meaning
for hopes untold.
Beneath the ink
these words unseen
recede, revolve.
And that ancient reed
it’s fibres bleed it's plexus
excede complexity.
When the pen lifts
and the words unfold
like nascent butterflies
which sing songs of old,
I finally see...
Simplicity!
the nexus of this expression,
and the gateway to felicity.
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