you are a line thief.
an idea
burglar, tip
toeing along the
ledge of her
mind. going
through an unlocked
door or window.
everything she says
is ripe
for stealing, gems
tossed into
your little
black bag
and held under
the light,
brought home to
be examined,
priced then sold
in the bargaining
of your own poetic
life.
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