Flailing Empty Capillaries

You were there from birth,passed down from father to son,waltzing through my veins. My muse.We embraced, perfectly on pitch,a song, and then I foundanotherand I left you. I see youtattooed on my wrists. Thickblack lines, a Gand an F.My former muse, permanentover my veins,under my skin,a perpetual reminder. I stare at you, remembering.Wanting stillto create with you. After all,you are in still…

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