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Writer's pictureAndrea Sangiacomo

You are

You are my secret,

Hidden in plain sight.

The taste of water,

The fragrance of air,

The touch of space,

The sound of silence,

The color of light.


You are neither 

Myself nor another,

Less than something

But more than nothing.

A boundless loving 

Presence holding 

In your invisible 

Embrace everything.


You are so completely

Different from all 

The mind-made fancies,

Yet you live them all,

Enjoying their play like

The waters caressed

By shoals of fishes.


You are always there,

Unnoticed horizon of

Freedom and beauty,

A formless landscape,

Ignored, forever sought,

Kept so far way by all the 

“Yes, but…”, “Yet, I need…”

Otherwise, you’d so close:

When every name and form

Is offered, surrendered to

That which makes them appear,

You are there, I am too.




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