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Tell me your story and I’ll tell you mine.

Show me your truth and perhaps it will be mine.

Can we communicate? Will we touch?

How strange to travel such a distance

To find that we meet at this place.

Your words are not mine.

My vision differs from yours.

No detail the same, no description in common

Yet we touch and find our interpretations are one.

How does this happen? What does it mean?

No comprehension, no idea how,

But isn’t life wonderful when it comes.

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