quiet time
a flurry of words
making sure all is well
it is
now it is time to read
to luxuriate
in the warm afterglow of verbiage
it feels like a miracle
it isn't, it's only you, and maybe me
though, why me
i ask myself, and ask again
why me
maybe it is this—we both turn away
from mirrors
and turn to words
Poetry by one trick pony
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Written on 2016-01-17 at 22:18
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