The solipsist reads her words
and “cringes at the sight”.
Not to be discouraged
He diggs into the verses’ blue soil.
Stained with ink and confusion,
He comes back up for air.
And covered in words not his
he looks into the mirror
and recognizes himself.
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Untitled #4
"s/he holds me up
not my arm but my
consciousness
recently raised to
the height of awareness
that comes only
from suspension of soul
or is it body/mind
turn the page
imagination evicerated
in the plot
cringing at the sight
s/he did not create"
Love your new stuff on here :)
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