the maze of her pre-life
creepy crawlies inside the flour
they are all there in my mind
by writing i try to figure out and explain to myself
slide in surreptitiously from the side
the currents aren’t always warm
an urgency to be written on the page
the line that i fly by is fragile
its intricate trail on the sand
it flowers with surprising prettiness all year long
Savour
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