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I flail among words,
Look for means to go---
Washed ashore in civil disobedience,
I find myself among
Convolutions of a private kind…
Hanging on a verb or two,
Surreptitiously supplying caresses
to some belligerent sentences said.
Do my words some morals betray?
Do these some cogency deride?
I have to know, is there an open-
Secret that rides upon this threshold,
That my grammar can no longer hold?
Where is this page that my weary feet
Has cast yoke?
I'm not quite ashamed,
I pluck out of your words,
Something that twirls inside.
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