- Reads 212
- Votes 17
- Parts 23
Ongoing22m
Last published Sat, May 6, 2017
Poetry is often strings of words pulled out of air. Sometimes it is a flight in the night by One; entering another and leaving things behind. Some of these things become words. The other wakes and fingers type and then, what is read back... bamboozles.
I can claim no actual authorship though my fingers did type out these lines; other hands guided my hands for the most part.
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