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Our Interaction

My mind immediately conjured up a vial during our first meeting

Unnatural feelings in a vial

I have it firmly etched in my mind

To experience what had been taken from you

What the world had taken from you

A chance to say something

Giving the vial some words

Instead, it shattered, leaving fragmented recollections in its wake

With the passage of time and the loss of hope

As a result, I know my heart isn't safe

It's nothing more than a container for numerous divided vials

Is this, however, the case?

One of the shattered glasses

Even though it was a modest dish, it was left behind

There's more than enough hope

Which she painstakingly filled up

With her carefully chosen words, she replied

This is our second meeting.