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I start rolling up in words
I'm not controlling
I don't Mind, I never Did
I'll tell You why I lost in Lace
a trace of Time.
Romanced by Humid Heat of Night
Acrossed by Archer's pointed bow
I still stay by, I still won't Go
I drift a picture into Motion in Your Ocean,
I like how it reacts.
I wish to say I'd really like that.
I won't, but will
that's friction's mount,
pull in so tight, push back, Pour out.
Just never stop,
fill me up to the Top
and tilt it right out the Spout.

— The End —