I feel silent. Yet still I remain still. Is it the same? To feel if I could feel. If require, will desire fit the bill? One time, measured by seconds that steal.
Is intellect as ineffectual? When roles become reversed and tables turn. To inquire as just aspectual. To cast a light on love in time to spurn?
Of words or songs I have to learn to speak. To say as I would feel my thoughts to be. A rivers mouth conforming to a sea. Every line an extension of me.
Could rhythm flow from my mouth as a song? Would crashing waves be considered as wrong?
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