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Dark bits.

well, it's dark bits of prose, isn't it?
5 years ago. Friday, May 15, 2020 at 7:48 AM

 The warmth of the sun -                                                                                         no

The fresh abandoned sheet.

Nothing colder.

 

a kiss a slap a scream a sigh

 

The silence which follows, enticement or chasm?

slippery like dropped punctuation

candlelight and the promise of torches

 

Chihuly glass perched on Jenga of moments...

the back of her head, leaving or lust

the grasp of air or hair

taste of promise, sweetness of lie

 

our world a cheap waterbed on shaky foundation.

 

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