In other news, at some point in the last couple years I've become more allergic to mosquito saliva. I've got four quarter-sized knots throbbing away as we speak. But my will is strong.
Also, here's a poem fragment I wrote to a prompt a while ago, that's probably not going to end up anywhere.
Prompt: X-ray
High school choir grooved
middle C into my vocal chords,
made tight rope of my throat muscles,
leathered my lungs. Five lazy years later,
would an X-ray today show scar tissue
or the remission of promise?
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