I never claimed to be a poet.
The words come to me,
In twisted mysteries.
I do enjoy it.
All the leeps and bound,
And tumbling sounds.
Breathing deep.
Until I feel the ground,
Swallow me whole.
My eternal soul,
I never claimed who I am.
This person.
These hands.
These thoughts.
Unchangeable demands.
Passion creeps in.
Every crevice.
Every word.
Every syllable.
Yet unheard.
I never claimed anything at all.
Until you.
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