TO MY NEW MUSES

TO MY NEW MUSES

I ran out of things to cite to evoke laughter.
I ran of lines, like a spillage of naphtha…

I ran out of stories when I reached the topmost floor.
I ran out of bubbles, like debris washed ashore…

I ran out of reset buttons so I was left with Velcro.
I ran out of hopes that foreverly fell through…

I ran out because time was running out too.
I ran out to catch up – if only I knew how to…

I ran out of the past when I started anew.
I-ran… How? Tehran… What?! I ran into you…

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