a forsaken dream.
a single flower is a tomb for the eyes
long i looked
swaying in winter
under a floorboard in a cold room of its spell
i offer this moment up to the sky!
as a chance to say
fuck the numbers
that say how far i am from the beginning
and how close to the end
.death is always.
.never foretold.
.i tip my hat to it but go on living.
.as a life-crazed whatever.
happy winter
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happy huh? ;0)
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