Inert Voyage

in poetry •  6 years ago  (edited)

You go through my veins, raisins, blindness
Blow the breeze, you are, that's you ... warm
Early morning from private stations to a cyclical fork
You went summer, you go by, I do not see you
Immaculate the passing of your tenuous existence ... warm
Night dying, winter months, cold ...
Cold
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6 years ago by

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