Artistic by nature.
My lines look more like
broken pick-ups tied, equally transparent as
any attempts to play it cool.
You can see my eyes, even clutch contact.
But we don’t ask, mustn’t ask.
Hold any inventive expression
on the tips of my fingers, ready
to pose every roadblock I
can fathom, because I want to make
this hard. But I won’t ask. I can’t.
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