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SG Holter
Poems
Aug 2014
Rummaging Around on the Floor for a Loaded Gun
I want this to
mean
something.
I want you to spend nights
Making your hands feel like the
Ghosts of mine.
I want you to cry in bed until
You rip the soaked cases off of your
Pillows; turning to weep onto
Barely encased feathers.
I want this love unchosen to
Lay its scent upon every regret
You create from now until death.
I want this to
mean
something.
But your page has turned. Ah,
Young ones' do so swiftly.
The drama is mine alone
not
To share. In your aim, I'm still
Rummaging around on the floor
For a loaded gun amongst the ones
Between the bodies, until someone
Yells *"cut!"
Written by
SG Holter
Fenstad, Norway.
(Fenstad, Norway.)
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Michael Amery
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Digital Asylum
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