Another new slate,
another new page,
metaphorically and
rhythmically speaking.
Another stolen word-
a songbird-
and the bricks in my soul are creaking,
set up with mortar to shield
against future theft-
but you stuck a card and made a hole, and
when it dried I breathed and the world was yours.
No use for regret,
I'm not alone yet.
Go on, it's all yours to take,
when I'm gone I'll start
With a clean slate.
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