I move, but I don't ask you
and you follow me.
Together.
And then you bend us to something that is yours.
I want to follow you there,
But on the way
without planning it,
without naming it,
we both move now to another place.
The perfect place to head for.
Did you hear it before you saw it?
Can I see it now?
We will meet at the same time
And we will discover there together
what we had forgotten but had always known:
Invention.
What of it can we keep?
Are it's roots stretched deep enough to grow wild?
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