A thousand words endeared again 
To a rusted pen and a poet’s muse.
Withering verses settled in synchrony 
Within reason and thought’s contours.

Vagrant, vacant words sound
More sense than their silences. 
These quartets cohere to meanings 
And flit in familiar nuances.

The flux of flowing thought 
The flutter of a shy and queer emotion 
Coalesce to concoct, again 
My dose of poetic magical potion. 


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