Before words, before hunger took the shape of words,
there were grunts.
Before spoons, before forks became spoons,
there were hands.
Before cars, before a bike smacked a motor to it and called it a car,
people walked.
That’s how I met you- walking down the street, eating a New York hotdog
with your hands, grunting at how delicious the sandwich was- I hope.
Your words turned into something I slurped up like what you did with
a spoon and I used your car as a way to transport those words.
Before you,
there was no action.
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