As I sit with pen and paper,
The very words steal away from my mouth
Down to my shoulder,
Along my arm,
Across my wrist,
Around my knuckles,
Flowing to the tips of my fingers,
Immersing themselves with the ink.
The thoughts wreathing and writhing,
Streaming from my lips as would breath.
No hesitation.
Only simple thoughts on paper,
Flowing from my mind as would breath from lips.
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