You feel it, right? A kind of tearing.

I am becoming differently flexible. Yesterday I wrote a poem at the bookstore, in my notes app.

It went:

Having an allergic reaction to

The poem books
My hand blistering over the spines
Because of this,
I am too nervous,
to pick and open and find
The one or ones
That ought to be mines
And which ones
Will sicken me.

Not very good, but it is what I felt at the time,
And that's enough, probably enough.

<<agé chose>>

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