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WHEN I MET YOU
The day I met you, the air was still bland
no flowers, no fragrance
no music. Then you spoke
with the gentleness of a smile
and one by one you plucked
solitude away
from this lifeless garden.
Tonight, I read you a Neruda poem
remembering how you paused at my side
in every stanza, creating a melody
in the complexity of silence.
Now, each word there grows
roses, daisies, lilacs, gardenias...
