is a piece of paper
crinkled, torn and shrunk
after rain and shine
inhibitions set free, documented
forgive my opulence
my dreams are merely like yours
they shoot like a skylon, unknown to the unknown
know not of edges and curves
it is these moments that I am sensitive to reflections
shadows
illusions
are you my voice
sinking within the depths of soil
were you trying to talk to me
were you stealing me away
off the shelf?
I only wish that you do not loathe
you do not hate
of what I cup with my hands
undelivered
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