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May 2018
i hear my love,
young,
loud,
faint to judge.

i hear the young man’s heart through my ears
it is me.
and his mouth is pouring but i hear hers
it wrenches me
i am bitter
angry.
i lose my breath.

my death,
the puzzle of puzzles,
which we call being.
part of my blackout poetry exercise. inspired by the tale of hyacinth and apollo
Written by
I Anonymous
246
 
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