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Perfect Dark

It wasn’t the suspicion 

that gave life to the language,


it was the language.  It wasn’t 

the mission


that perpetrated 

the muse,


it was 

the muse.  It wasn’t


the decision

that outweighed 


the need, 

it was the need. 


It wasn’t

the laptop


that typed 

these words, it was


me!  I remember how there used to be

personality


in this thing.  Risk.  Reward.  The notion

that we were exceptional


within the rule 

of being nobody.  That we were somebody


in the dark.  What a lark!  We are nobody

in the light,


and that’s alright.


Posted 07/28/21
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