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Jan 8
I dip the quill of intention into a font of temptation.
I write pretty words on a blank page
To watch them all get sullied.

I draw the ink of inspiration from well of Russian toska.
I write boleros on a cluttered page
.watch ink smudge and fade.

The Muse that moves me still eludes me
And I'll chase her dragon ever more.
Written by
David
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