Tuesday, April 23, 2013

minus

oh how we are forgotten 
and never seen again 
and how we work at leaving 
in hopes of burying them 
and what a revolution 
to finally breathe thin air 
and hollow out our body 
of weakness rotting there 
the fine anemic notion 
the swish of moving on 
the slenderness of killing love 
the first-rate waste of done

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