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May 2019
The buzz, a cacophony;
unwanted recipients press me like a cup of juice.
The swarm.
They swarm to simple sugars,
As if butterflies. A word could mean
the world in this chaos.
A word so desired, even I can't be sarcastic.
Our thoughts; effervescent, as if a cup of juice, forgotten;
More adjacent than I'm comfortable admitting.
Thoughts sitting at a busy bar.
Written by
Dylan  28/M/Ashland
   BR Dragos and Fawn
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