A verbal dilemma.
Lips tremor,
Pause.
The sound of nothingness.
My mouth is moving,
Deafening this absence of words.
Euphoria hugs my pen in hand, as one.
Nightstone ink gliding and dancing along welcoming blank...
Thinking and thanking my words,
For so beautifully escaping my mind.
Morphing ego into poetic nonsense,
Whether conscious I will never know.
Inspiration bubbles on my tongue.
Longing and loving this present.
May this nonsense never age.
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