THE FLOWERS SMELL THEMSELVES (D A D G B E)
Watching the jasmine run up the trees.
Looking for the cup in the cupboard. It’s right in front of me.
Putting my books on a plate because the grass is wet.
Telling myself it’s alright because I always forget.
It remains unknown and I will never get there.
There is nothing to do but my best.
Up to nothing. I feel it coming.
Sitting in the sun with my shirt off. What do I know?
Now is not the right time. What do I know?
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