Many made you -- like Solanas or Barkley
like sunset air in your veins and those dreams  being parsed
Many made you -- everyone of them becoming sparser
stale parsley or spring clocks' time elastic
Many made you in so many seconds and fevers
those scars in your soles biting grass which then followed
Many made you when they hurt you by proxy
or those who dried the water from your hands in classrooms
Many made you and maybe mostly just trade winds
kinetic potentials' equations set in motion
-- Many made you, and I'm really less than an author
-- I made you into an egg and can't quite figure what went after


I never really write poetry, let alone in english, which is not my native language. I just woke up with some of this poem in my head; most of it slipped away as dreams are bound to, and I tried to fill in the blanks, getting this very awkward rhythmic problempoem. E2 just felt like the only place it could fit.

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