one, I am not made to bear.
I adorn you in mystery
I summon you in monikers
I embellish you in poetry
and relish in their squandering.
You've instilled in me a dolorous fancy
one, I am now addicted to.
There is no proper word
no known rubric
no appropriate response
for this meandering.
Through my poetry, I am charting
the topography of my madness
— My incognito sentiments.
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