Zywa
See, hear, and speak no evil
I am I and you are you
there are too many people
to possibly love
too many to possibly live without
manners, although it takes
the joy of the wonder
of each other – every other
you meet, you and me
who is like us
The people next to me
on the train are talking
I hear their stories, luckily
I don't belong to them
I hope
they are so different, or even
worse: I am the same
Unspoken we leave
the miracle unseen
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