"writing is easy"
said no one,
ever,
especially not a writer.
Especially not one who has
a thousand tricks to put her mind in the right space,
superstitions from the correct time to the most comfortable place,
the temperature of her drink to the angle of her screen,
the way she folds her legs and the way her glasses gleam.
Awkward rhymes fall out unbidden
and the writer hopes they make sense,
pared of all the ancillary thought-noise
that only exists in the head
bare and clean and black and white
and full.
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