Wednesday, 26 September 2018

poem 134


The deepless* dreams, of the usual  
breeds bright out of burning ennui

Until its seems, everything agleam
must thrust, the deepest of cuts 

Now trust, the lovers arising touch 
his vision cures, there tearing claws

For to know his blue gleaming eyes 
never distilled, by there sicking lies 

And today exposed, a seam just splits 
it’s unravel, though a hopeless hand



forever spills, still, deeply he dreams you

*of no depth

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