The Intellectual

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It was always the questions,
for the answers just led
to more questions;
lip-biting curiosity.

Tranquil eyes
grasping life,
through words and pages.

I can still see her feet,
propped high enough on the chair
for gravity to tug the blood
from the tips of her toes.

I can still see the book,
ink stained from a pen
that dangled from her lips.

She was the question
that made you forget your answers,
she was the answer,
no matter the question.

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Sincerely,

Sandali’s Reveries

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