Brush strokes move paint in time
to music she barely hears,
Words flying overhead, instead
penetrate her ears
and enter her mind – she
can’t help when those words imbed
themselves in her brain.

It takes a while to process
but she eventually begins
to analyse the excess
words she is left with.

What do they mean? How
does she respond? Does
she tell someone now?
What does it all mean?

Searching for the answers but
reaching no conclusions is
the path she trails along. The
words remain inside her brain
only to be called upon at a much
later date, as such.

All the words said about her
friend, teacher, mother, lover, brother, sister, aquaintance.

She remembers.

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