What do you call this?
what do you call
the muscle
we long with?
Spirit?
i dont think so.
Spirit is far cry
This is a casting outward
which unwinds inside the chest
a hole which complements the heart
the ghost of a chance.
“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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