A stone among boulders,
I jut and gleam between punts.
Flung hastily, I am chipped;
My rough, spackled edges
Ingrained with her slag,
Surfacing in his whiskey river.
More silvery than the others,
I drown in the murkiness
Of the puddle that envelops me.
Bludgeoning myself with words,
Aimlessly searching for direction,
I surrender to shoddy structure;
Bequeathing my pain to the past.
A stone among boulders,
I am an instrument, a tool;
I smash and erect new beginnings.
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