Don’t forget to break my face
before you go,
for like my soul,
it’s beautifully fragile in its simplicity.
But I digress,
‘cuz only you
could beautifully burn beauty into plastic ashes,
little soldiers, carrying time’s passage
upon their disintegrating shoulders.
I could twist my tongue around my pain
and choke,
but instead I grab the bowl
and toke,
beautifully burning beauty into marijuana ashes,
A little relief, carrying time’s passage.
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