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Category: Poetry

time zones

time has stopped it is 7:30 not my time hers the simple math makes her older the experience makes me younger what we feel makes us eternal

waking

  up in the morning before the sun rises      too early too fucking early lately it seems unwilling to disperse clouds covering this ravaged land in wet blankets […]

Chipped paint

beside the chipped paint of this aged 
mansion a bird the 
size of...

Again

I know you. I have always known you.

One Morning

it is 5 a.m. the dark room is still the air is sweet with you