less the words you mused

beyond my road
i can hear
the stream

in ice
water licks
the shadow of
its still self
and moves on

upon its eddies
i lay a leaf

greyed
and dried

not to be restored by this phantom touch of dew

i dream it
a paper
filled with words
you will never know

not for the lack of soul within the words
no, not that
it is discretion that moves me so

to wash
to clean away
to be all that i am

less
the words
you mused.

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