I feel my dead are more alive to me
Than I to them their sight and touch
Unclouded by flesh and blood
While I have only memories
And occasional dreams of them
In which they appear as if nothing's changed
It's like I only see them from behind
While they look straight into my eyes
And think my thoughts with me
Being now thoughts themselves
That go on thinking of me
And holding out hope for me
To feel along with them
Only in loving are we free
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