Friday, November 14, 2014

Absence

Well, I don't know.
In small portions
this body would be fields

of stupid ideas repeated
a concussion of cowardice
in all the openings
of kind words unsaid.

But where are you?
It's time to feed ghosts at the
pressing behest of their buttons

And soon we'll be: 
ancient or innocent
epochal or whatever
and just not the same.

_

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