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Lejla Hott Jan 2020
the time.
like a rock upon our hearts.
it has crossed the road.
-
-
-
disappears behind the street corner.
will not return.
the future is not created by using the present to complain about the past.
when will we learn.
mike Oct 2015
the lady keeps
blowing in
the curtain.
shes dancing for me
and she gathers no moss.
the lady is lost in the curtain.
shes waiting for me to come find her.
i found her
i bound her
to let in the light.
but i shut my eyes
because thats where she hides;
in the corner of my eye
where the light becomes shy.
in the corner of my eye
lives a mistress.
she blows wind
through her dress
she blows kisses.
when she gets undressed
her bodies a list, its:
aaalllllll the tiiiime youve wasted.
aaallll the useleeessss looove.
aaallll the loooove
you couldve had.
aaaall the tamperiiing
with evideence,
that tells you
to hoard
all those feelings you cant afford.
its so simple to know
that less is more.
the moment i passed it
i sat at a casket
thinking:
When one of us dies,
which one of us cries?
if you cant expand
then cut off your hands
theyre better served
by someone else.
you want a life
with a house and a wife,
and youll have to build
your house in hell.
a white wicked fence
a fire that never relents
a bathtub full of seashells.

— The End —