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Oct 2018
the empty shopping mall
that we both now occupy;
dismantle—slowly—the lights,
succumb to its tender darkness

the hollow shells of money making
now reduced to bitter nothing;
run—tirelessly—through them,
their youth fleeting; long departed
i still think of your eyes, even when i don’t see you.
yvan sanchez
Written by
yvan sanchez  20/sleeping
(20/sleeping)   
201
   Fawn
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