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I feel I am not alone in this room

It breaths and crawls with my antics

So much of emotions brewing here

So much of humidity lives here

A plenty of sweat and despair is born

Simmering out of sickness

It grows weird in my eyesight

I have another humid half

I know it is not made up of my days

I know it is not cooked in my dreams

It may be the other end of my porous beliefs

They see through the wedges of my pupil

A world full of half baked ideas