My dear readers,
To begin at the beginning, that would imply that I must know where I began and though I am curtain that it was some long and far off time ago that I began to use my passions as creative outlets, I could not tell you when that was, nor could I tell you in what chronological order the beginning of poems began and so instead, dear reader, I offer you a lens, a looking glass, a kaleidoscope, if you will, to view the disassembled, disoriented, cracked, broken jumbled mess of confetti I’ve made with lips and hands and pens and pencils.
The following are symptoms of the ovaries...
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