There's a symmetry that doesn't suit
mirrors and dualities of meaning
appear choreographed
my life a collection
of circumstantial evidence
and words in
short lines.

The days are run through by coincidence
turning what should be lyricism
to low farce.

A blank page is a riddle
and infinitely more beautiful
than any mark that comes to it
and all I do is mar and mark the pages.

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