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Nov 2014
Clay

Not one particle of me
Dissolves readily
I am so immune to Love
These days.
My outstretched hand
Stirs but does not *******
Enacts but does not generate
Indeed Un-differentiates.

I have made
From deeper word-clays
Superior thoughts of you
And have thrown
Better pots upon the wheel
But daily life these days
Must take what it can get
The potter must ***.

This is not mere wrestling
With images
This talk of alchemy
And artifice
In the absence of you
I am forced to ply other clays
Toward lesser ideals
On my stage of words

That is to say
You were for me
Something seen into
More than friendship's patina
More than the creation of space
Something seen of imagination
Unbelievably
More than the clay itself.
Tommy Randell
Written by
Tommy Randell  66/M/Whitby, N Yorks, UK
(66/M/Whitby, N Yorks, UK)   
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