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8

One Truth

Philosophenweg | Ernest Hemingway
8

I am the sentence,
you are the period.
We exist between spaces,
unspoken yet screaming.

One truth,
stark against the white page.
It burns, it freezes,
it splits atoms of thought.

You ask for honesty,
I give you naked words.
They shiver, exposed,
raw nerves on paper.

I am searching,
you are finding.
We meet in the middle,

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