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Circling Graphite
When silence speaks
Nothing is heard.
Our breathe is a like a secret
Window, hotly working.
You squinting at a friend and
Trying not to giggle.
Or writing long exams in a room
With circling graphite,
Scantron sheet after scantron sheet.
Or in Mass,
The death knell of silliness,
Leave or lose your wind bag.
Or in your mind,
Be still your mind.
This is the fifteenth line.
Please be still your mind.
Copyright ©
Matt Caliri
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