
still, the tiny languid shadow
they have all but said to rip
a thousand may whisper like weak rust -
swim, only to sleep -
incubate
true void:
sea and rain
stare after spring has gone
the lake will never ask
for love
Poetry, prose, and perfectly strange artifacts from the past five years of my life.
"We crossed paths for a reason... and it only strengthened my faith
in just that -- reason."
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