Unfinished
(for all poets who cannot stop revising)
I am not finished
I am never finished
In the poet’s head
I am kneaded indefinitely
I am not finished
often typed
put in writing
spread imaginary
I am always one step
ahead of the poet
I am never finished
forever young
because the poet
smooths my wrinkles
forever and ever
But am I finished
when the poet is finished?
Or do I get a legal guardian
and an unwrinkled future?
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