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Rhythmic fragments and verses.
This poem asks the muse if she is aware.
I'm telling her ex-man is a waste man.
No one can love you better than yourself; they can only teach you how.
She said I make her water, so I wrote this.
Her thoughts show, and she is art, just as I hope to become.
This is Poem 1000 in Howard Frith Hilton’s oeuvre.
It's how I dine.
If her language changes.
If being stuck comes with a full-time job.
This poem takes me in its embrace.
DEDUCTED FROM EVERY ITEM.
VAULT VOLUME HAS OVERRIDDEN STANDARD PRICING.