Messily.

 
It all starts from
A single word,
A tedious nuisance
That undramatically
Strives to unfold.
I bear it
At the borders
Of my peace
As I bear
Little insults
Pretending not
To be hurt.
There, my panic feeds
with guileful care
premenstrual fields
where I dream to smoke,
my gesture more
than my cigarette,
Inhaling memories,
And transparent,
Braided afternoons.

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