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Verbivore, pt 1

I live dream die to create complete each letter word turning phrase and thought-out straightaway You read breathe digest every syllable letters strung like a popcorn necklace fingerpainted fragment sentences authoritatively artistic and defended in brazen resolve my keeper of the slight, the nuanced, softly sung, down-quilted gerunds: holding, brushing, sweeping tasting, loving There is no sound in space. No quiet nothings whispered. The sunlight on my face now scorching, cracking, blistered, Starvation comes quickly when the cook's not around; so when the words stop if need be, feast on me.
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Written by
riq-schwartz
American
Published
May 21, 2014
Lines·Words
40·91
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