Time spins. Persuaded to move into the gray. Deeper. Foggy, vast, beautiful. It used to scare me. Now I walk. To what, with whom? You have answered your own question.
Friday, December 27, 2024
Pictures of You
Fawn upon your images, what band of noise surrounds you, how fortunate could you be for such a collection? Impressionable were the verses, an exchange of love and peace and celebration. Many glowing spheres I swat, as the truth rolls: who was it? Never quite fit. Instead, suspicions. Suspicion swirl so softly me a notion. Say you, to you, rejected the infatuation you had believed, invertebrate men, and words towards you look with furrowed brows.
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