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keep riffing on
And perhaps it hasn’t ended—
perhaps it only changes shape.
Like dew, those words return
in cycles: evaporating, yes,
but rising to gather again
in the hush before dawn.
What we’ve shared leaves traces
in the loam beneath our days—
threaded through time, feeding
new growth in unseen ways.
For now this song may pause,
but its chorus keeps riffing on.
