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dean
Poems
Sep 2013
poetry is dead (and by dead i mean ours)
everything there is
to say is said already
but still we will write
because these fixed forms
are more than what they appear
to be; not constraint
but freedom in light
of your hand in mine, making
me forget my name
your heart in mine that
beats in time with the cadence
of these ancient words
we claim as our own.
kiss me poetically,
forget what we've known.
haikus make me feel less incompetent at poetry because hey you can always blame it on the syllable count if it *****.
Written by
dean
United States
(United States)
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