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the writing selfself-concealment

blimp blimp

2025-05-30

blimp blimp staring at a blank page but there is a pulse with other gods there is a sense of false what fate has for us in store strip your crowded thoughts and do your chores my god is paper bygones are favored swords are drawn i masked my flaws i masked my morals complicated the simple to simplify the sinful to single out the signal fearful of the symbol little cripple twinkle

how do you want to read?

poems can unravel themselves as you read, line by line, at a considered pace — or just sit there, fully visible, like normal.

change this anytime — look for “reading: …” near the top of any poem.

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