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I know flow

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I know flow
I know you, flow, I
felt you in the discipline of whispering listless syllables, and
In the smear of visual lyrics pioneering the invisible, but
my grip on flow has loosened
parallel to my fasten on palpability
In my prerogative, I’ve lost eye on my liberty.
To me, flow was a focus.
Vision riveting upon a bit pinned onto the hinterland, while
legs like clockwork underneath shaped me into a bedouin.
I felt like this in childhood, in a book, poem, song, a place
Where an absent atmosphere resuscitated a saving grace, but
years have awakened the hindrance critical to my cynical,
and I am no longer able to stare beyond the physical.
I used to know you flow, but now, heartbreakingly, I’ve grown
someday I’ll pass your infantine innocence to my own.

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