There is an accumulation of speech on my side.
Meaning overflies words,
and substance is a corpse.
It was found subjugated to choking rhythms:
silence followed questions,
more questions followed silence [bis]
Repetition and reiteration were the accused killers.
No.
An unnamed feeling was
A void I try to fill by revisiting experiences and gestures,
Failure.
Memory is triggered by survival mechanisms,
Meaning
Wanted
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