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growling in my stomach
larger than a lion
that ties in everything I do

brighter than a flame burning
turning light onto the shadows
flinging pens as if they're arrows

on the marks of men
that left footprints on my hide
the stain has spread and dried

a song I’ll sing till I die
and none can silence me
I’m a worker bee
~
...
where dreams
and laundry
cohabitate
there are vast
wardrobes of imagination

...
~
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