R--U--OK?
Yeah--Yeah
I txt back
before adding another dozen lines to my
essay. There's a scrap of paper beside me
I'm scrawling lines of a poem that are singing
to me, from the cheap seats, insidious, in my head.
As an afterthought, I realize, I need to tell him something else.
So, I send another
I--haven't--slept--4--days
Frenzied, exhilarated, deeply
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