Don'T Rush, For Nothing
Always,
I shake
My pen, before
I write.
The remnants of
My thought I had yesterday
Still remain,
Asleep,
I sip them not
From my pen, but I just
Let them
Flow,
Without force, for
Thought
Will come again,
Exactly
The same
As I felt
Her whimsy throb,
Last night.
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