Things just got more complex.
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freckle:
really? isn't that the way things go...
null:
Words can be art like paint and paper mache and huge lumps of clay, but none of those things can ever be words. Words strut and tease, beguile and please. "Reveal too much," you say? "Conceal more," I reply. When my words taper off and die...only to return, what was that pause? What did it conceal? What did it reveal? Was it a threat or an appeal? Did I have a thought that you'll never have, or was I just...leading you on? Are my rhymes and lyrical style broken or is there another pattern? You could show me art that no thousand words could ever describe, but could you show me art that can ask as much with as little as the word, "Why?"