The
latest colouring and the day begins. Shrouds of perplexed words, used
in rightness, fall smoothly thru the air. Assumptions lead to dawn.
Exceptional
words don't know person. As person saying person, leave room now.
Poem
is a trait, not a vent.
Quester
fuddles in reach of “right word”.
Your
word for ocean is still ocean.
To
clarify, you aren't there. I am not I, We aren't tall together.
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