Smooth image,
so far removed from the original words.
Inscribed, hardened, seemingly permanent.
Traces remain, hinting,
whispering unseen, unspoken syllables.
They are not here though.
They are not for you,
not yours.
Gone with a sigh, exorcised,
wiped away, distanced layers.
Each step removed blurs those first words,
while unobscuring what is here.
Distance focuses, magnifies.
The first words become meaningless,
nothing, empty,
in the presence of the shape,
the shape that is all that remains,
that is their story.