Clarity and Figs

Imperatives waylaid resolve our selves
To winter temperatures once we divide them
From our history if this is possible.
Secretions are not fit for conversation.

I would like a fig. And you?
Some rainbows seem like pluckable strings.
I have studied woodwinds long enough
To know that I prefer a consummate vibrato.

Your meld of percussion and pure melody
Sit will with me. I think your making
Long after I have heard myself
Just reminisce what you have done.

This practice tells me I see no dividing line
Between us. I take what you have shown
And I rehearse the parallels between
Requirements and desire.

A limber way of taking afternoon
Into my heart. And trying to become
What others think I am. Much
To discuss, much to have mussed.

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