I am filled, but not defined, by learning and sin
Which I open myself to affect or put in,
But what if this were stripped from me, released,
and I were not full of facts and lusts and poetry?
The shell to contain them is all I would be,
Of a certain size and shape, but empty,
But me.
Which I open myself to affect or put in,
But what if this were stripped from me, released,
and I were not full of facts and lusts and poetry?
The shell to contain them is all I would be,
Of a certain size and shape, but empty,
But me.
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