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Poetry & Prose | April 27, 2010

And on to single mirrors I
Give
Infinite forms:
For I, with your
Melancholy body
Fuel the potentials
of louder mimes
born from higher
constraint.

And to those who
are convicts
Of thought
And prisoners of
Words,
Think not with your minds but Through caged
Birds-

Live by
deferred
Bodies-
those that remain
unheard.

For you, in which (my) language
Perpetually predisposes (your) perception,
On to which (my) dynamism distorts
(your) Suggestion and
(our) Situation,
Learn from thy
Self
And Think
Of thy Thoughts. A word of
perspective.