given a chance,
i would let poetry flow-
from between the shimmering leaves
talking to the november night!
i would talk to myself
reassuring .
i would write and rewrite suicide notes
and throw them to dry ...
between prehistoric rocks.
given a chance,
i would be reborn as rain
and pour feverishly on the dried up world
to make them forget
all that had gone wrong
for my sins.
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