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Aug 17 · 21
Man made
nyh Aug 17
The tears are fluorescent.
Extraterrestrial warrior's descent
on grassy fields that feel like human toes
Grasping, choking for oxygen.

Acquisitive you are, touching and feeling,
Like a baby who has never cried.
The hole in your chest can only be filled
By me, reaching for the world's evils.

If I could, I would have made you out of glass.
Incipient man, the starry eyes,
You, see me for who I am, dazzle
As I polish away inconsistencies and lies.

Make me your gaze as I bite on
Soft ears that only know
Thrilling laments
Of all things beautiful.
Jan 21 · 16
Evening crowd
nyh Jan 21
grey textile, rocky roads
delectable in locomotion
mechanical reshuffling
human trenches
herds obscuring
worldviews
and the bus that drags on
breath of trepidation
heatwave of monoxides
grey and wool
thicket of sorrows, unfulfilled
dreams, blanket of
undying sleep
a bus bell,
signalling
the stop. bus
stopping

— The End —