Sunday, October 02, 2011


I think, believe, hope
I cured myself of you
Once more.
At last.
There: I turn a smile at life,
And the tendrils of longing and despair
Twirl round my guts, unawares.
Once more
Sorrow sprouts like a cancer.

Let me scatter into a million minuscule fragments.
Without shame, or reproach,
And without permission,
I shall dust your shoulders,
Kiss your brow,
And find everlasting sleep,
As I disappear into your breath

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