luminile altor orașe
numai cuvintele mai mută întunericul dintr-un om în altul
Saturday, September 5, 2020
this cannot be a poem although it may very well be one
from the heights of my happiness
(where I now reside)
I'm digging my own grave
thought
by thought
now that's dedication!
bones so clean
so forgotten
and the sun
up there
on the other side
of the highway
like a humongous sign reading "waffle house"
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