Something I don’t yet understand.
But wish to:
When I write a poem
I put my heart into it.
Think deeply into a question
Scratch out revision after revision
Rage for days, months, years
Finish only when I can whisper:
This is how I felt.
This is how I and only I felt at this one unique moment
This singular combination of circumstances that never has
And never will happen again in human history,
Unless
History repeats itself beat-for-beat
Every neutrino spins exactly the same way
Every fish flicks its fins in the primeval sea exactly the same way
You and I and all all all born live die exactly the same as before
Exactly as we will again
For the whole life of the universe
Until the final flicker of light
From the final dying star
Then someone reads the poem and says:
I’ve felt that way, too.
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