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I'm no poet




I’m no poet.

If I were, 

I could sing

Wordless beats.


My yearning’s

Beauty can

But Music 

Understand—

Sometimes, if

I let it 

Come close ‘nough.


On the shore

The struggle 

Vanishes

In the storm’s

Afterglow:

That is my

Roaring soul.


I could tell

You maybe 

The formless

Mystery

Of my self—

What I feel,

Or might be.


But a poet

I am not.

I’ll let you,

Thus, touch me.




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