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Writing, it’s Feeling. spontaneous urges touching upon each of the senses the moment the pen magnetises into fingertips spilling out currents of words in panicked ink splatters, unmanaged, unfiltered & channeled.wept out, breath subtle,surrounded by empty sound. static brush,while wrist sweeps across lanes,crossing lines, giving in,its desperation, its surrender,where its heading,where its been.
