October
28, 2012
#10
Crooked
Last
words were please …please … please
all inside my honeycomb, my pretty bomb
exploded in multiples of self respect, an evaluation
of a strong autumn, a period of indolence.
Caught crazy in a loop of apologetic looks,
lost the map, lame purpose of writing another hopeless
night with a crooked light on my face.
all inside my honeycomb, my pretty bomb
exploded in multiples of self respect, an evaluation
of a strong autumn, a period of indolence.
Caught crazy in a loop of apologetic looks,
lost the map, lame purpose of writing another hopeless
night with a crooked light on my face.
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