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Mar 2019
And yet again
in an hour of listless isolation
a past image limns a tear
in the blank sheet of my heart;  
An unhealed memory aches
to share a hidden wound's predicament.
A lonely dream sleepwalks
as a blindfolded desire looks on helplessly.    
Agony of a loss runs deep in my withering veins
The blood feels dead by a vacuum of nothingness.
Written by
noren tirtho  49/M
(49/M)   
167
   Fawn and Darrell Landstrom
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