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How can I elaborate on
something gone but not quite here most parts oxygen not resembling air but floating away far far from itself what view would describe it this incalculable thing? once it was someone now its become a thing far far removed as if it lived in a tower on a rocky island in a narrow narrow inlet surrounded by a Salton sea once whole but no longer a part of the whole a mere farthing of reality why do people look but do not examine don't move too near its too dear a prospect to get too close this specimen doesn't like proximity nor spectators with spectacles near this being was once varied and real but has been altered somewhere some spring in her sprung and now merely falters the experience of seeing her is like looking down into the well of a sink as something shimmers down its pipes or is it more like staring up into a rosy-pink morning trying to recall a distant night... and was there ever, youth how I/you/we feel so-so removed from myself/ourselves I've become a stranger gaping but not daring, to look in they say I've always led with my shins then fallen down gotten bruised I never healed well did they/do they know you can't stop the deep snows from coming or what it means to go missing from your life as well, ah, these are truly not Prognosticators. Not everything is required to make absolute sense; however, this makes sense to me and to many I know, now. And that makes all the difference, to me. legal copyright for this poem/work/manifesto and also for this author/writer/poet Melissa A. Howells and also for this legally copyrighted site title: Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World time/date stamped 3:45pm PST February 27, 2018 thank you for reading and constructive feedback Re-edited for clarity/punctuation/spelling on 4/17/2018 2:18PM PST and time date stamped and legally copyrighted Vote for this poem |
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