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  Nov 2021 Shrika
In the underlying layers of green
The perennials begin to dream
In the dying scent that sweeps the air
The autumn showing signs of wear
Between a dying rose and being caught
In an eclectic mix of design and thought
  Nov 2021 Shrika
Presence isn't felt
though days pass
& glaciers melt.
time is hypothetical
unless each tic is eyed
-  highly unethical.
The ebb & flow of life
deception at its best
realization is the knife
that cuts the moments thread.
  Nov 2021 Shrika
those words i say
loud enough to convince myself
that things will be ok
are breathless hollow echoes
that fall heavily to the floor
like the shed skin of a vibrant life

still i hold them close
like tattered remnants of love letters
that i fold into a lifeless heart
hoping it will spring to brilliant life
and resuscitate my passions
igniting a dream now grown dull

but like the ruins of affluent times
the hopeful words i speak
are simply overtaken and swallowed
by the depth of reality’s indifference
and so my fatigued voice falls silent
and my paper heart crumbles into dust
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