Your days are never made.
Moments are discrete.
You can be ecstatic or distraught in any given two of them.
Independent of occurrences.
I never made your day.
(Don't Call it a) Poetry Blog
Snaps
Femmes
Questions
Sounds
Detritus
Too many sounds,
Too fickle to hear.
Raging against human homogony.
My intention is to clone,
reap myself from what I've sown.
Snaps
Femmes
Questions
Sounds
Detritus
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