Last Rites
our memories lurch
to a reluctant halt
in their funeral march
so i can pour salt
over them one last time
to a reluctant halt
in their funeral march
so i can pour salt
over them one last time
“I have lost my dewdrops!” Cries the flower to the morning sky that has just lost all its stars... All bleeding stops eventually. I am but a collection of particles, atoms that chose to suffer in unison.
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