Penelope baby

I am the calm recipient
and the creator also.

I look for meaning where there is  none .
I am Baudelaire, and Whitman, and Duras all at once.
I am upset; I am tired; I woke up exhausted.

Cotton threads! Du fil à pêche, Duras.
Tragedy’s made from a thicker weave than this.
C‘est un caprice, ma poulette, voilà tout. .

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