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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield


I am selling peace of mind,
the quiet hinge.
How a pillow meets the soul
and ink flows on paper.
Pieces of sound
that left a rumble
in the walls.
A voice without tremble,
and laughter at nothing at all.

A piece of shade inside my hand.
The charge that beauty has
filling you with invisibles.
The voices of silence
in our ocean.
How to open things
and close them,
set a table.
Watching you sleep,
your life
returning like a voyage,
showering like a wave.

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