one you
one me
many you
many we
but when one talks of such a one
as is contrived to hide the gun
that mere contrivance points back to
that spectral trace of me and you
but it's neither you nor me
although it very well could be
[context]
-
for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
-
the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.