Such is your slavery to patterns, my friend, that you try to fathom raging stars into caging constellations. Such is your slavery to meaning, my friend, that you hunt for it on this blank canvas. Such is my slavery to patterns and meanings alike, that I confine poetry to just that. Maybe one day I break patterns, and write a blank verse. And maybe one day, you let go of meaning, and read blank spaces that eat into my poetry. 26 years a slave #poetry #slavery
