The Archaeology Of Consciousness


Poetry is solely
the archeology
of consciousness,
the pot-shards
of a mind
whose true
can just be
guessed at.
When you read it
you discover
mere pieces,
not the original
You try to wonder
them back
but can’t quite.
When you write it,
you leave clues
for scientists
yet to arrive
who will never
fully understand
who you were,
which is OK
because you
never did either.

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