deepundergroundpoetry.com
Geometric I
The squares of reality
dost focus my eye,
Not fitting to center
not even when tried.
There is always
an inquisitive fold to left,
A less distinctive bend
to the right.
The Geometric I;
It increases then ceases
with wrinkles of time.
dost focus my eye,
Not fitting to center
not even when tried.
There is always
an inquisitive fold to left,
A less distinctive bend
to the right.
The Geometric I;
It increases then ceases
with wrinkles of time.
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