Carried along the tune, amidst absent memories passing...caught in a residue, provoking you, escaping truth. I bend the light in words where I seek, river to sea, the shade...invented, shelter, reason...the black eye you asked for, the detachment, the severing of seams, blood lost...the weights you lift still remain melted to my shoulders. I wait for movement on purpose, for motion...as I blink unmoving, within the stillness I've surrendered to. I await your reply only half-heartedly, I anticipate more the arrival of my forthcomming cigarette, that beckons death, subtly senile, near or far whithering whiles...where we wonder forever...never to feel what life steals...and I crave something pure, something beautiful...the smoke summons you...The night descends neglecting fear, and arrives despite our knowing, respite, against the moon, proving to control us yet again...And again I will fall suceptibly vulnerable to surreal sin, underlying in essence within our sharing of presence, in the disarray we've manifested, in words wasting lines, the lines overflowing pages...of our books.
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