May 20, 2017

loneliness has a pulse
walls taste of aqua
the damp mistaken words
stick to my tongue
snails disturbances lime
summer darkens
while wild antennae whirr
against blades of grass
horizons shift under our heels
theirs is the hestitation
the broken hours straight ahead
death is a long letter
an uneasy hot dare to become
nothing remains at the margin
myself close, i'm searching

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