Tediously.

You don`t read
In between my reticent shoulders.
Tho`words do not possess
That plantlike transparent skill
To pacify,
They reveal layers.
Always a jot of truth left behind
And seasoned irony at hand
For the awkward process
Of asserting the real aim
Down the gnarled throat.
It can be that I say,
But to be measured and heard,
In childish anticipation,
Unable to discard your image
And untangle mine.
With [...]

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