Searing this language at it’s edges

Proclaims my ways and imagines

A sky full of harps and I say

“why?”

Why do I shadow myself?

I stand tall and escapes me in all

Is my fashion for words

Telling and taling my way

Through the air that touches

And briskly dashes through

My sight

And I think I might see

Something of magic

Until I kneel

And I feel

The tease of what is wrapping around me

I let the butterfly from my hand soar

And watch as it’s wings devour

What I try to.

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