Thinking where it feels the clearest
it’s hard to remind such kind sounds to disperse.
So like a gentle whisper in remission,
my rush for you remains unheard.
Your image is etched across the inside of my eyelids.
Glimpsing grey before the red,
the day was altered by delay’s heavy touch.
Life creeps out of his skin,
and she doesn’t seem to mind, do you?
Hearing voices dance in the showers,
direction splits in two,
inventions fail to connect,
and we forget how good it was to try.
Another night loses focus as, yet again,
we evaporate. Yet again.
And everything could be all right
if only we knew from where these feelings emanate.
What with crumbling structures
and fading awareness, it will soon be
that our souls mate together
apart from our selves,
somewhere cleaner than tonight.
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