The needle point of  pain
is fire and ice
it’s the knowing
and the not knowing
the near
and the far
presence
and absence
the found
and the lost
A pain
both old
and young
that knows
how to smile at itself
and be petulant.
It is home
in the cozy grooves
of the heart.
And then suddenly
it melts
into a little memory
with rounded edges
that shivers only when you
touch it.

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