about one another is not the body
don’t stop there and not even the soul
with its frantic parade of joys and wars
both of which have finally
a purely preliminary function
like an introduction or a prelude
a scaffolding or a preamble
to what we must come to recognize
and love about one another
which turns strangely out to be
the most hidden part of us
only visible to the most
hidden part of someone else
the eternal spirit of each one
which in these fogged-up days
seems the most out of reach
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