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Sep 2019
For a moment the air is almost still
and heat gathers in floating pools
My hands work with their usual vigor
But my mind pauses, just
Like a pointer sniffing the air for a change
for the scent of a new presence
I consider my environment
I notice the flavor of motivation turning upon my tongue
dissolving away like pink cotton
No one presses me to change integrally
No one pulls my hand to follow
I find the words of my old leaders
like old habits, they are forgotten
or they bleed together like cheap dyes
And I’m left to lead my scattered, stained self
Elioinai
Written by
Elioinai  Georgia
(Georgia)   
  180
   Ryan Rylee
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