This anticipation is my favorite part
A mind that wanders, closed eyes to see
Reflections of premonitions, but unmistakable
in their complete lack of originality
The tapping of feet, the sips of time
In between sips, the quiver of lips
The air grows thick, the tongue flaps quick
One after another as if by design
Loosening my thoughts, so I can breathe
Days spent thinking,...
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