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the figure

today frustration stung my eyes

as I connected vine to bark

and found the lines made no sense at all

my hand betrayed me

or was it my eye

or the space between the two

somewhere in my shaken network

synapses backfired

and effort and time and even breath

made no difference at all

at the end of the day

i found solace in the second hand

and relied on nothing

only to surprise myself

with something redeemable

“we are not making art,”

she said,

and it is true

i believe art happens

with or without us

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