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Time,it escapes me
A melting clock drips off my table
Like spilt milk puddling on the floor
The hours blend into an alphabet soup
Spelling nothing
Gibberish
An unholy tongue
Epiphanies
Jumbled excerpts of my life
A tornado
A blissful lull
A fucking earthquake that I sleep right through
How will this story unfold?
And where can I find a mop and some spackle?
Andi C. E. Smith

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