deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wrinkles of Potential
Words are the temptress of my fingertips
They gravitate to vastening spaces
Sometimes I get lost between lines
Or cut through edges of this wrinkled mind
Find infinite pages inside
Waiting to saturate all it’s potential
They gravitate to vastening spaces
Sometimes I get lost between lines
Or cut through edges of this wrinkled mind
Find infinite pages inside
Waiting to saturate all it’s potential
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