What happens when we can hide nothing from each other?
We cease to exist.
We become glass.

This is a recurrent dream---that someone will be able to feel my mind, each
strand of thought.

Utter communication and I will no longer be alone. Longing
will cease.
The heart will still entirely.
Their thought will breathe through me, envelop me.
The wind blowing waves in a field of dark grass, separating
each stalk, smoothing it, brushing over it, lifting it.
An emerald in a wheat field.

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