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It's here, Across her gaze. Under the flora, The grey grim murk on the perch. The swallow song no longer heard Over rap-racket from the stereo, Hardening ear lobes. It's here, In the shallow pits of the room, Where one wallows in part-pity And shameful surrender To the mic’s mild embrace. It's here, Hiding in the hollow, Glaring wistfully into nothingness, Gliding in undulating vistas Across light and dark In the dark and light of head-space. I hold the rim of the coffee cup, Clasping tightly until it drops On her clammy clad, The iris eyes me dangerously. My final resignation. Now I am here.
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Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
Resignation
It's here, Across her gaze. Under the flora, The grey grim murk on the perch. The swallow song no longer heard Over rap-racket from the stereo, Hardening ear lobes. It's here, In the shallow pits of the room, Where one wallows in part-pity And shameful surrender To the mic’s mild embrace. It's here, Hiding in the hollow, Glaring wistfully into nothingness, Gliding in undulating vistas Across light and dark In the dark and light of head-space. I hold the rim of the coffee cup, Clasping tightly until it drops On her clammy clad, The iris eyes me dangerously. My final resignation. Now I am here.
Michael-Benjamin-Walker
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Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 11:51 AM UTC
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