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  Jul 2020 Marcin Strugalski
Elle
Wind rustled leaves
Are the only sound
In the canopied dark
Concealing memories
Of dizzying nights
Spent wild in the woods
God,
I ask of you beggingly,
That if there ever shall
Come a moment of this
Life of mine’s when
It abruptly ends before
Its goal,
Its soar,
Before it’s vocation is greeted
Properly in passion at
The finish line...

Please, let Me
Somehow linger,
Endure,
As inspiration,
Wind of embracing
Freedom, for all those
Who would still need Me.
May I accomplish my
Mission this way,
In the words/feelings/acts
They don’t apprehend,
For I am those.
Let me guard them,
Behold and
Last in their eyes
Or words
Love
The legacy I'll leave.
Let me come as seeds
Of greatness, planted
On this Earth (in)directly.

One of my last future momenta
Of funeral thoughts N*1.
A Messenger with a course to run.
Because I’m here for what is beyond Me.
The
indulgence
in
drinking
the
sky’s
tears
from
flower
petals
in
­bitter
,
Greedily
.
Reservation
made
.
Of spending time as Ellipsis,
One on one
full wet
with foreign
Flowers
In the incoming storm.
You'd been dying for a year.
It seemed forever until the
night your last breath rattled
at 3am and said it's over now.
I wept begging a god for just
another breath or 2 so I could
whisper once more Kellee, you
live on in this old woman's heart.
Cancer
I watch the ****** on 5th St. dressed to ****
  circle over the wounded with starving appetites
  for all the sweets on display and perfume to up
  temptation for another 5 or 10 for Waffle House.
  Love is easy with fixed price and no strings.
  All I want is someone to hold onto. I still wait.
the color of
some collars

don’t complain
about sweat

stains they
are tattoos

on my clothing

signifying I
gave a fair

day where is
my fair pay

you promised
Oatmeal star

Is that your hand
in the cookie jar?

Go for burn
where chocolate heavens
meet that interstellar souffle

There we'll melt together
as the dark side
of the Milky Way
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