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Maybe it is stillness that I dread
Memory is fluid;
On the surface it will spread—
Until your voice completely fills my head.
Shadowy outside,
But through my eyelids glowing red.
Were you ever really there?
Panic twists a knot in every thread.
I'm begging you to follow,
But I'm dying to be led.
Somehow every word remains unsaid—
And then you disappear
And I am standing there instead.
Were you ever really there?
My eyes are closed, but I know where I am:
I'm at the top of my favorite hill,
At the seaside cliff of dreams.
At any moment now
I will hear the cries of gulls circling.
That is when I will lift my eyelids
And see what I already know is there.
Someone will be waiting for me here—
Someone always is.
I'm in no particular hurry
To find out who is here today.
I'm content to listen.
I hear nothing.
Not even the sound of waves
Breaking on the shore far below.
Were you ever really there?
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