a thousand pictures, each headed by one word
the ghost of courage running inanimate in every interaction.
the day's weather calling for nights
the comfort of warmth that is unwelcome during bouts of heat
the smiles creased to no distinction
while the reason to believe never follows the belief, a by-product of said belief says,
"believe,"
as reckless as my trust and as helpless as your faith.
isn't it pretty close to searching in constant movement,
for a frame of stillness.
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