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Sep 9
I found my myself.
Not me now, myself then

My present self knew where to look
My past self knew only the absence it could feel

My memory of the past was searching for its own future. The incomplete journey finally come round

An instinct of then reached out
An instinct of now extended a hand

Both felt incomplete without one another.

Together at last.
Not fully fleshed out trying to capture and experience that I feel with inadequate words. Not poetry yet.
Written by
Philip Salt  40/M/Canada
(40/M/Canada)   
35
     vienna bombardieri and valentine
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