Monday, 28 May 2018
on this heated day
on this heated day
waiting thirsty by the
dusted tree
parchment paper lips
form a hidden name
"i'll never be the same"
she whispered
and i understood
every word
as an echo in the
shining valley
"how could she do this to me?"
how big the sky for
little questions
how big this ego to
wait so long
could i be wrong?
the illusion of a
windowed face
became the mirror
of disgrace
Monday, 7 May 2018
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