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This is not a draft
I don’t want to mask my poetry
I want you to understand me
Curse your perfect rhythms, rhymes, haikus
Your lyricism, your literary
When I try to adopt it, I turn mute.
Something channels through me
(I’ve never really found the root)
A demanding stream of consciousness
That cannot stop to breathe, let alone
Wait, conceptualise, draft, redraft
I can’t!
...
Monday 7th October 2024 10:25 pm
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