Words tangle
And winds
fetch
a growling
creature.
After me, it
runs.
But deep
into the labyrinth,
I suspend
the hunt.
To stare at
the creature
straight in its
eye.
The growl then
grows into a shy cry.
Shy cry,
into a murmur.
To tell me,
where my thoughts end,
begins the hum
of silence.
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