Our gendered bodies
share more in common than not
our unisex souls
[Occasional tanka]
Metaphysical
writing is not visual
language becomes tools
these words are an instrument
I play guitar with four hands
Brightness falls from air
Brightness falls from air
experiments with lightning
forming through vapours
All those rambling thoughts
All those rambling thoughts
I’ll dispose of them like compost
they’ll grow into verse
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