Yet to drift beyond
The boundless yesterdays.
To dabble in what may be
And what could have been
To dip one's thought in changing patterns,
The ripples of the unboxed unseen.
It didn't happen in this thread,
Not snipped or tangled,
Just not, this way lead
To be sown or glued to shape.
An untrod cloud in this space.
The missed dimension.
Let's never mention it again.
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