Something to do…

a labored frame i found from an oft recurring obsessive sweep; much like cleaning, straightening and visions of pieces to be; i straddled [it], and gripped from the inside i found it pleasant enough to continue. as of late – most have been fleeting yet gradually resounding does this bit speak and grow. so, not wanting to rhyme but with no foreseeable alternative – i let go. which is harder still… wanting to make it just so is a curse and blessing, simultaneously.

what do i refer to as fleeting?

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