developing the best ways to avoid confronting anything; sentimental,
imagining myself small & insignificant,
each word that leaves my lips just a test for the next,
inaudible, no sound corresponding with another.
I cease to speak anything worthy.
palms at heart, I sit
in front of all the plants that will soon replace my presence,
except in bed, where their soil would stain the sheets.
I feel like I own nothing,
Lately, not even novel wit.
or a faultless way to let go.
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