Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Language Is Aftermath

The soul, that squid
Of ink, that cloud
That can escape
Within itself,

Has only one
True predator,
Morality.
That moment when

You sense yourself
Riven, as ink
Would obscure it,
You start thinking,

Talking, writing,
Wrapping yourself
In clouds of words
To dissipate.

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