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I imagine outer space to feel like this.
like;
no matter what, I can't lie down.
seeing a star that close made
all else seem
so much less bright.
I'm unimpressed.
I just want to love again but, you left that spell on me.
my eyes don't see color anymore,
my arms aren't reaching.
you printed poems onto my bones.
my mouth won't let me say marvelous and my hands quit thinking.
I'll turn to dust like this darling.
I'll be a little sandstorm on your
shore for awhile and
dizzily dissolve into your
winsome crashing.
The pyromaniac and the politically disenchanted will ne'er find relief until all has turned to ash
Copyright April 26 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
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