Core

Sometimes the true nature
of a picture is hidden by its frame
and when you take it out
it renews itself again.

Sometimes the true meaning
of a text is masked by its cover
and what you thought a holy book
concerns the memoirs of a lover.

Sometimes the danger
of the ocean is hidden by its calm
and when you swim the pleasant sea
you are battered by its storms.

Sometimes the outward-ness of I
steals a hidden core
and only in tiny moments
do I become a little more…

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