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Like the impressions
I've made with ink-less ballpoint pens,
You give me space and time,
A pad and camera lens—

This perennial bungee cord of fantasy.

Laughing as I dangle lazily and suspend
Two billion feet from reality,
Shaky beginnings, and chewed up pen cap ends,

I admire the thunderbolts that penetrate the skies
And find perpetuity in those hazel eyes.





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