One dreams of steel,
Plots out molten schemes,
Deep in February feels
The ideal summer breeze.
Another scribbles eyes,
Wreathes her dreams in lines,
Twining rhymes,
Dives into the ice of yesterday.
Another markets laughter,
Barters slickness for depth,
Casts her net for spontaneity,
Harks after the craft of presence.
In the echoes of between
They weave a tapestry of chimes,
Impassioned, incorrect and
Deft in tangled, loving lives.
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