Her memories were many
stored inside her head
a few even occupied
hidden places
the scar on the knee
from childhood
the scar on the heart
imagined
but now
thought real.
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Truth (with a capital "T") is the elephant, and humanity the blind touching, sniffing, tasting, listening to this big "T" and of course we all rhapsodize a different tale (or tail?), yet in the end the big "T" is still the big "T" and all our various tales describe a tiny bit of that reality, the elephant.
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