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I was created from air and tears.
I was born from humility,
which is foreign
to this land, to unknown skies.

I do not want to be a dream
that disperses in darkness;
I do not want to remind of existence,
which misses the lie.

With each subsequent vision
I come closer to a universe
that, hastily invented, does not associate
with tenderness,
does not connect with silence.

Please think, before the last tear,
the definitive flame of a smile,
falls asleep in you.
My body, divided into chapters,
becomes an apocalypse,
for which it is worth visiting paradise,
admitting sadness.

I do not want the future
to belong entirely to me.
I do not want the reflections of shadows
to hurt my heart.

I watch your illusions furtively -
I am leaving this place, looking for
another penance.
I will no longer dance as the ballad desires,
as the dream indicates.

I will not become the foundation
for senses.
Leap years. Thoughts that will never
learn to fly. A chance
that will be reborn as pride
if time so decides.

I recognized you by the taste
of your lips - too sweet to be true.
I know there will come
a time when the eyes will forget
how to cry.

What I will have left of you is a tear
turned into amber,
a silent future, a cursed era.
There will be neither shadow
nor light anymore.

There will be no more silent breath,
suffering word, fog that fawns
on my bare knees.
Tomorrow we will wake up
on the other side of loneliness -
where forests burn,
where freedom becomes torment.

I tried to admit to a life
I did not commit. However, fate,
this incurable hypochondriac,
wanted to sentence me
to a lifetime of memory.

Beyond the barricades of memories,
grace, harnessed to heaven,
echoes back to me; somewhere inside
there are sleepless tears I will never
understand. I can't dream in a way
that would make the earth
kneel before me.

I dare not look in such a way
that the sky departs forever
into the unknown.
Time will forever remain a desert island.
 Dec 2024 Evan Stephens
jules
I caught myself in the mirror -
not really me,
just someone wearing my face.
they moved like a bad actor,
lines all wrong,
hands heavy,
feet borrowed.

I lit a cigarette,
watched the smoke curl
into the kind of shapes
I wish I could slip into.
Who's comb-over looks like *****?
Donald's comb-over looks like *****.
Who scared us shitless election night?
Donald scared us shitless election night.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump

Who's got a tie that's long and red?
The Don has a tie that's long and red?
Who pays hookers to **** on beds?
The Don pays hookers to **** on beds.
**** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.

Who's got hands tiny and slight?
The Don has hands tiny and slight.
Who spews lies out day and night?
The Don spews lies out day and night.
Day and night. Tiny and slight.
**** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.

Who's got a vocab small and trite?
The Don has a vocab small and trite.
Who whines Fake News out of spite?
The Don whines Fake News out of spite.
Small and trite. Out of spite.
Day and night. Tiny and slight.
**** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.

Who likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD?
The Don likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD.
Who likes a spanking when he's bad?
The Don likes a spanking when he's bad.
Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD,
Small and trite. Out of spite.
Day and night. Tiny and slight.
**** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.

How many minions leave today?
So many so far went their way.
Comey, Priebus, Flynn and Bannon,
Tillerson, Spicer, Hope and Ryan.
Leave today. Gone their way.
Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD,
Small and trite. Out of spite.
Day and night. Tiny and slight.
**** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.
Sung to the tune, Must Be Santa
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