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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!

...

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Vital

The haunting of a broken tap: drip, drop

The thirst after the sun: drink, gulp

She never said a lot, gargling girl

Sliding in and out of my body

Helping me breathe, walk, talk

That was why I swam

It was water

Brought me alive floating out to No Man’s

Diving down to skim the sand

It was water

Wanted it, always had it, but could never catch it.

It was water

Insipi...

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🌷(6)

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