Day 9 (2)
Day 9 What I think of love is this is this, still - it is a sonnet, constrained by fourteen lines and sets of lines within it, the rules which I keep breaking , not believing in them, though I do believe in love, this contradiction though I do believe in contradiction,love. What I think of love is this, now - it is a stream of consciousness like thought itself, I think we love subconscious, because I've tried to make it sonnets, break and tame the rhyme when it just wants to fly . And all my metaphors are nonsense and are like wonder, religious yet ridiculous, in the face of love.
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