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jiminy-littly
Poems
Mar 2020
One thousand and one night
a person could write
a thousand poems
and still
not be read
until one fine day
a Reaper of thoughts
feelings and signs
falls deeply
deeply,
into
slumber.
and when
holding
that chalice
of light
and blood
taketh unto
his breath
the utmost
god almighty
and sighs,
'to be your beloved
what mighteth
not die?'
Written by
jiminy-littly
M/NYC
(M/NYC)
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