the other day, while fencing my heart,
i chanced upon an impossible dream,
it rose, in beauty, on feet of hope
and embraced a teardrop out of me?

with hurried steps i rushed away,
to find my mask, my book of sense.
to invalidate my yesterday.
then turned to build my trusted fence.

there it lies unto this day,
un-nurtured, neglected, growing still,
i hoped it gone, wished it away,
but there it stays against my will.

i leave it at the gallows, pronounce it dead,
but come event of tender mind,
i look back and find it there.
only a few steps behind?

beguilingly tangible? agonizingly beautiful?
mercilessly invisible to all but me.

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