Underneath - dig dig dig.
You're somewhere under there, under that, under appreciated, misunderstood. Over evolved and over ripe. I think I love you. But...you...who are you? Pencil, paint, light and dark. You are time. You are kindness. You are grace.
Our archeology is architected with dollops and digs - to the sound of the singing springs. The robust prominence of your independence has been noted but your calcified ruffles and complexity of your absence upstages this lump. You are both and you are neither...friend of mine, lover, me.