I've got this secret part where nothing hits. I'm quiet there.
Words are screens; that part you see is where I write the words across myself.
I'm here; I'm scared; I'm half alive
I awake the night.
We connect by feeling, whether we should or not --
Do you know the monstrousness of words?
Look, when Iago was about my age, he can't have been too bad.
The words created him. How should I begin to name my meaning when he can't,
And he's smarter than I am?
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