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Transformation
I pick scales off my
wrist. Am I becoming a
lizard? Desert sands.
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This article has 8 comments.
Thank you, Leafy :D
Y'know, most of the published poetry I've read *elsewhere than teenink* has, as a general rule, been very unstrung and spontaneous. Nonsensical even, if you will.
Ha, it seemed to make a lot of sense to me; but that might be because I like to bring sense out of nonsense and interpret the lines scattered "randomly" across my palm.
Lovely randomness, the kind that inches along the floor like a caterpillar. Bothersome to some, but quite pleasant to others.