Me, in pen ink, crawling on hands and knees above a deep grey line against a cloudy sheet. Me is this pen, loopy licking pages and feeling for readers. Am I near you? Am I close to your sweet bright eyes? You're waiting for my next move, for my story to begin. But I have no story, just letters to weave. Tricky strange symbols to make you say 'Yes!' I know your tongue, I know your mind. It's quite like mine! It's a strange transformation because a happily seated letter length is much unlike the mirror me, the girl in the ponytail, the earring hearts, the black button dress over shiny black flats. But I'm more me than ever in my thin wash of blue. Curly whirly letter game, talking to you.
And I quite love you. ;-)
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