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May 2016
May
With all its emotional whereabouts to burden our thoughts once more
Your mother in an undercoat of turmoil
My father's winding eyes past ten o'clock
This life has not been easy for you
But I still collect the drippings from your eyes, time to time
When there's a satin moon
Never understanding the existence of eternity
And this note will never reach you
Because we are now both expired on this late day.
Rhet Toombs
Written by
Rhet Toombs
565
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