"My notebook has remained blank for months
thanks to the light you shower
around me.
I have no use for my pen, which lies
languorously without grief.
I have no use for my pen, which lies
languorously without grief.
Nothing is better than to live
a storyless life that needs
no writing for meaning— when I am gone,
let others say they lost a happy man,
though no one can tell how happy I was."
a storyless life that needs
no writing for meaning— when I am gone,
let others say they lost a happy man,
though no one can tell how happy I was."
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