1 + 3 =1 This kitchen's one cup one spoon serves one man's fingers stirring a dollop of cream atop the counter 3 visiting ants pass beneath a French Press seeming separate seeming alone seeming aimless wandering about our mutual landscape how barren the cold marble for those so distant from the nest that their seeking antennae never touch never acknowledge one another assuring reality's connection all is well perhaps until inexhaustible solitude accepts 1 + 3 = 1 the cup the coffee the swirling thinking will continue stirring darkness to disappear inviting light's eddying dawn to reveal the way patience willing
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