Mammal hide drums tied taut with human jerky--
like how i am a cyborg when i use a car as an extension of my body--
Walk around a circular room enough, and you'll find the corners--
People are always telling me to stay grounded in the physical but the literal can't always relate the metaphysical--it's beyond words, so here i am, a poet, an artist of words so to speak, coming to the realization that words are superfluous, unnecessary even--i have thoughts cranking, flowing, juicing through my head that cannot be conceptualized, cannot be degradized into words, it's almost like how the Arabic language has words with no direct translation to English, no concept of the western notion of borders--
a species, as an entity akin to nature--
An oily colt is only but spolotched out in an early spring snow, when the ground is still clinging to winter's chill, still frozen six inches under, but the surface is warm enough to melt the snow.
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