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  • May 14, 2021
  • 1 min read

Sounds of words

in a hot-tin poem

a hiss of want.. in coercion

echoes of desire

rise scalding

through a haze of almost-dark


Subtiler fires of sundown

shines it's amber,

...lights my pores


tonight

I try and let my soul reset


I walk a sky the length of something else.. that is not yet






 
 
 

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