#phantosmia
A touch of darkness
Gently lifts the veil of dawn.
I smile.
You are not there.
Take on the morning waltz,
Like ghosts ー drifting on;
Cycle of love,
Harrowing raptures.
Your scent, an acute absence
of apples, roses and sunlight,
Fills and intrudes and begs to consume
The remains of my rationality.
Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 7:27 AM UTC
We were looking for an admonition.
Trying to find the end of the tape.
Now it’s like,
all we see is a dim image.
I exist based on what my environment tells me
I became the guardian of a great river.
I see convictionless men
around me,
mere mortals.
We have to purge the glamour.
We dance
around
Slowly moving figures.
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 5:47 PM UTC