Thought and feeling

I was you in my beginning.
Adventure, risk, rebellion
Filled me with belief
Now gone.
Was I crushed
Or prostrated myself
Legs in the air?
Pungent liquids
Washed away

Now you’ve come,
Each moment
Is treasured for itself.
Your Heraclitus
Drowns my Parmenides.
I theorise, analyse,
You express.
I think by routine
You feel in the moment.

Do I guide and support
Or parasite on your vivacity?
Are you what I might have been?
Might still be?
Written by marthard
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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