The constraints of thought
are drafted by strange grammars
We write love letters
trying to explain Past
flailing wildly in Present
I know how to create Love
without understanding its punctuation
We write down our dreams
We sing them for others
Courage exists
To think without using language
To love without presumption
The first poem was to appeal
to the ancient structure
that allowed it
Words are acts of love
toward human thought
We correct the grammar
and Present turns old
Love is written
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