Cut With the New Kitchen Knife

Catching attempts to wheel away the world
Trying to take turns and still surging out
When all I wanted was to wince and burn below my boorish doubt
Don't react with modern prose
To think of nothing but the strength to be hidden across the face
He spared steady hands
A slow sip faster, towards the page
Keeping up was something tired
And while I'm buying sand, I'll meet this tiger
I'll breath what I don't say
Our pall and paste without predictions and; prying out of the hands as if I will
When all I wanted was to prod and plan beneath my worn out sill



Credits
Writer(s): D Brito
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