Wednesday, March 13, 2024

stopping my heart means something like a love song played in reverse (an ache in prelude)

Tell me I'm loved 
as if mapping out
the figure of a swan. 

Within her parts, 
there are daggers 
and ellipses;
the kind that linger,
and hunger,
and hunt. 

What would it be like to be a bird, 
I wonder. 

At the end of the day, 
I'm a thousand miles away 
and a breath apart. 

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