letters to euturpe: 55

even the letters
have not escaped the poetic treatment.
i’ve a theory: anything may
be a poem
if you want it to.

tonight i was singing to myself
while watching the rain
and thought about plans.
i made new plans, outlining
something entirely new.

after that, i watched my phone
and manipulated a picture
for instagram.

overall, it’s been a decent
sort of day.

prompts for the week:

  • mistake
  • rain
  • static
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