Influence's Edit

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my boots are wet & jacket's pulled
tight against this chest. A rusted

leaf rolls
& curls against his boot

—intentions blurred,
perhaps forgotten, hidden within

his own eyes. Perceiving only
bones, —the notes

written in past snows, layers frozen as impossible. Possibility—long paused

by Influence's edit, resumed again

in "grammar, please..."
(whispered to me) Uncertainty reflected

& we listen

in the rustling of pages—echoes' continued to syllables exhale. His

thought ripples the pages—our eyes weighted in ink,

as notion tumbles
rested
onto another table.

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