i used to be like you. now i'm like me. and then some. been some fun . with only one sun and one moon to run from when the sky is people and all steeples are non-flyers we have priors but know porcelain and sea-foam. been undone. and dead of Night prone. of no use and no fun. on one lung. for two demons. thems that be numb be numb ones and not none that feel some. they feels none. and not one shuns but some be done with one love. and then some... then someone's the next no one and then what ?
I have much more to say. This poem fell from a slow moving truck. I will revisit this title with greater depth and much more angst and hope. Dire hope. I feel it. This poem will morph into a monster in a matter of hours. You won't recognize it in the least.