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Sep 2017
I wrote no poems yesterday;
my mind was somewhere else.
It mostly minded you, Ms. Mystic,
and thought of little else.

My pen and paper hesitation
came from your superb self.
Words scratched out -- Nouns and Verbs --
because none of them quite work.

Imagination -- the one true author --
speaks no lies to me.
She describes you in elegant tongues
telling no one what I see.
Daniel Zell
Written by
Daniel Zell  20/M/Minnesota
(20/M/Minnesota)   
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