my midnight confession
of an AM radio memory
seemingly varying inversely to
Words danced with words,
flipping off phrases.
Not quite tuned sounds
to take it all in.
(And there is always a
All darting back into the bushes.
Occasionally peaking out.
until the next time.
Corners of a mouth trending up.
Keeping an eye on those bushes.
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Tags: dug out from the draft folder, word doodles