She stood in the garden, alone, and spoke aloud.
"I so wish I could hear your voice again. There's just a snippit left in my head...it's been so long.
The quirky laugh, so nonchalant, as I remember, questions requiring deeper thought, and yet the answers were always so easy.
The tone which I at first never expected but later identified with you and only you...and still do..if I were to only hear it again...match it to that snippit I play over and over again more times than I care to admit...well then   maybe then I would feel how I  felt the last time we spoke.... Like I was vital, loved, scared, and yet safe all at the same time. Sometimes...but only on a very rare occasion, do I wish that I could turn that snippit off. Just so I wouldn't have to miss you for a moment or two. "
"And who has loved like this ? " she asks herself pitifully.
" Only me."-...she whispered in self reply, as he listened quietly from behind the northern wall, never making a sound, before turning and going on about his day.
Just as one lone tear waters the gardenia.

short thread long line very hard to tie tiny knot

being sentient,  breathing, waraware, give begiven
for of by you,
UR us Toyz, told as legendary trips, and bags, and scenes.

Testify if I kept my head when all-just-if-ity if one little bit
that'd been me, see, lost theirs, at the crossed roads,

any legend needs a choice, freedom, for free, or
duty due on demand, wanna
bet better off dead, or alone, tossed in historical
legends far vetted,
oft from the deepest pits questional able ibility
I'll go rythms's interpretation as how
to make up interesting times to be experienced
in phrases.

Bubble-wise, by now, you know, all bubbles pop.
At the top.
Free at last, past all ever wasery ifery weifery weight
height, arching
angels, Golden Archesmcdondald boyett,

linking bio-six-pointer, aim, related to you
by the legendary kevin bacon matter of fact
AI knows, I know, we all know, this is that a
we state, as we read, awe, full
we o bey ance dam dam da, dam did we ever

imagine freedom of the press,
blowing bubbles in the milch of humes kindness,

kissed with a wish as well as a wonder ifery why
not?