There's something out there shading it all, attempting to speak up. Muttering under my own breath, then I get choked up and it's difficult to breathe.
For what reason? I imagine it all expressed in such an effortless, fluent string of poetry. Like slicing a fork into an elegant French dessert, you raise your hand slowly towards your lips and it vanishes from sight.
Mesmerised by possibility, holding a mirror up to everything I wish to say. Trying to capture it; a whisper rolls off of my tongue, hidden by it's own reflection. Only for now.
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