Processor of Words

She spoke the words as you said them

Whispering the last now first

 

Hastily, she moved objects together

On the right, to the left, under and above,

Prepping each word for the perfect position

 

But in duplication of the master

Her sentences became twisted complications

Soon, she no longer sought to be a tool of correction

But searched for her own title

A title where she was ahead of the diminutive letters

Where her face could boldly be seen

 

Weeks past, and she lost her place

Months past, and she erased attempted correction from the master.

 

Unbeknownst to her,

In the neglected edification was a support germane to her subject

Without…

Her two cent nouns held no value, no purpose

In the end, what was left was an empty beginning

~O. D. M.

 

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