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Dec 02, 2024
Why did you not cross the black river and remain innocent? Unhealed, failed inside, broken and honest?
You won the race, the space, the heaven. Moving away to the farthest blackness. Your god sits crosslegged, clotting.
Brown hands on white shoulders, boneless move in circle. Deportation of words opens the green wounds. Birds carry the snow on the wings.
I was confused, wanted to love my broken vowels, for absolute you and me. The baby face pops up again in my perfection, speechless.
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