soon my love, soon;
today's hours are minutes,
themselves seconds;
almost whole.
some less, some more;
pin-straight;
others tight and coiled.
if borders are man-drawn dashes
and dots, aren't tick-tocks as much
to wall-hung clocks?
The Beauty of Abuse Amnesia
-
The fog of what never was
Rolls through the afternoon
The words she used
The gestures she made
My spellbound, powerless rage
It's as if all the thrust...
24 minutes ago
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