i can't help but wonder,
how does one rid an echo, a stain
or a history of timepiece inclinations
without purging the blood out of your own
stillborn conceivement raised under
youthful indiscretions?
and/or
how does one confront these
slipshod confessions or static
impressions without diminishing the ease
to swallow and digest the equally-current
life course transitions?
i can only keep wandering
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