A poem about imminent mania. 


Summoned by you, quietly, gently. Gathered by you, though I can see you now. Beckoned to negotiate the terms of my provocation. To say yes, and relent to the maniacal delusions entering, filtered, into my brain. And then spewed forth like a dam broken. Unable to stopper it, unequivocally provoked. Here she stands at the runway, ready for takeoff. And yet, she is still. Seething, simmering. As it bubbles in her mouth she exclaims. Gasping, she hiccups the sound back down her throat. Choking on the corners as she swallows—revoked.


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