and not the here
that I long for?
The wander
and not the wait,
the magic
in the lost feet
stumbling down
the faraway street
and the way the moon
never hangs
quite the same.
― Tyler Knott Gregson, Chasers of the Light
Or heard or felt came not but from myself;
And there I found myself more truly and more strange.
― Wallace Stevens, The Collected Poems
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