Saw my words,
wove their intricate patterns;
they turned out collapsed, indecipherable,
cobweb hanging by a single strand.
Not a single one could
see the truth for the complexities
and visual baubles.
Faded painted images disappearing
delicate watercolors
without preservatives.
Hone it in, hone it in-
use metaphorical precision
a single, cool drop of less
refreshes the ear, the heart.

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