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Just Sitting


When the conversation settles into silence
And the logs crumple to no substance,
Occasionally sending up slow-motion sparks
Into the soft night air,
For a while we just sit together,
Having done what had to be done,
Having said what had to be said.

We're just sitting.

Nothing happens.
But a nothing of such infinite presence -
Intense without tension,
Wise without thinking,
Loving with no object.
We're just sitting.

Together.

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