Someone once asked
if I had a
‘fountain of a pen’.
if I had a
‘fountain of a pen’.
No.
No pen.
No pen.
In truth,
it’s more
like a
Dreaming Tree,
and I find
myself
constantly
tripping over
the roots.
it’s more
like a
Dreaming Tree,
and I find
myself
constantly
tripping over
the roots.
Black
and blue,
here.
and blue,
here.
But I’m
surviving
.j.
surviving
.j.
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