I never could touch the sky—
how then could I touch you?
I was never truly hungry—
how then could I love you?
I never looked back that way—
how then could I lose you?
I never learned to understand—
how then could I write you?
In that sense, I never really suffered—
how then could I comfort your wounds?
I never learned such emotions—
how then could I shelter your feelings?
I never noticed—
deep within me
your existence has settled.
That I could forget you—
tell me truly, how could I ever?
Well, is it because I couldn't do all this—
that our coming home remains only a trick?
I couldn't say...
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