Sure I'll say it again,
In fact, I said it in the last two lines,
As only this human,
Who can't be anything other than what,
I am in this moment,
Which means, therefore, my brush never changes,
With which I paint past, future, and present,
It's the same brush with which you paint, yourself,
It's how it's held that counts,
There's an ontology to sink teeth in,
Depending how it sounds.
If it sounds good,
Maybe we're kindred souls,
Don't know any other way to put it,
This be the friction that ignites my coals.
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