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Ants On the Wall

Today 
I'm full of writing.
It's not my heart
nothing as admirable
as my heart, it's my
aspiration, my vain
hope, my fear
of vanishing with no ghost.
Today brings
mizzling silence,
that transforms
in my appetite to 
the illusion of heart.
And I sit down
to get something in words.
My readers are
theories and wishes.
I'm supposed to be the child.
You are supposed to 
turn an enthusiastic eye,
praise every charming thing,
and be patient.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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