When I read, I relate to the writer. I have wondered if anyone relates to me. The possibility becomes unimportant as my words take me on a journey into the shadows of my mind. It is there in the shadows I find my value.
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It is there in the shadows we lay.
When I read your work it often shakes fruit from the mental trees, some take seed and develop, some are stored away for a later time. There is a lot of value in the conversations we have.