inked
When trying a new pen, I tend to sign. A foreign name worn smooth around. Not unknown, just not mine. A name I no longer claim, having lost the right to speak the sound.
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When trying a new pen, I tend to sign. A foreign name worn smooth around. Not unknown, just not mine. A name I no longer claim, having lost the right to speak the sound.
Poetry Books 50% Off
Bestselling collections from top poets