Friday, December 11, 2009

Win

This morning, I just kept going,
churning the ink
and pressing the sheets of paper,
the power in me for knowing
secrets, I think;
this morning, I just kept going,
churning the ink,
and wild-running joy kept growing,
just like a drink
of some kind of godly vapor;
this morning, I just kept going,
churning the ink
and pressing the sheets of paper.

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