i am an outline
a mold to be filled
take your ingredients-
your facts and opinions
add to the batter
and i'll churn until it's
all a smooth,
white whip,
each contribution adding,
intensifying.
but if i'm not careful,
it could separate:
the good and the evil
the known and unknown
and i could lose your gifts to me.
i'm sorry. i can't hold you forever.














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