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Dear Nabila, Thank you for sharing this poem with me. Your description about the pages of poem and the poet was enough to draw my attention. I thoroughly enjoyed this piece. Love to the edge of your fingertips, for that is how far you can really go while your feet are on solid ground. I love the insinuation that the furthest, deepest way of potraying love is by writing it down as you bestow the emotion immortality by the miracle of ink. You also mentioned the freedom that one gets by putting down words and the secret shared between the poet and the poem. I imagined the poet passing a message to the paper in hushed whispers and in honour of the secret, the paper writes a beautiful poem. Obviously that's not how writing works but I like the picture that my mind painted. As though paper and pen are a writer's closest confidantes. And for once, it's not the poet that falls in love with words but rather the words themselves that adore the poet's ability to create. The number of lines are inconsistent but I say to hell with it. I couldn't care less about structure. A poet may care about such detailed organisation of lines but a poem wouldn't. And this is a gift of gratitude of a poem to the poet. Basically, you are writing a poem that writes back to you. Poemception Okay, I'm muttering nonsense. Sorry about that, had a long day. Overall, this is probably one of your most memorable work for me. Keep writing, love. My review has been submitted for consideration in "Good Deeds Get CASH!" .
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