An Alternate Reality

I see words dance,
a smooth waltz
or a jiggling jive.

Some come easy,
aligning themselves perfectly
across the page.

Some start and stop,
randomly skipping as they go,
leaving pot marks of white space.

Some hide,
floating just out of reach.
Some demand to be used.

I think I am creating,
but ultimately,
the words are creating me.

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