seriously dreaming in the eye
seriously dreaming in the eyeof the dying day's Prussian departure
I have no reason not to walk
into the coming and the next
diminished to a single star
shot through the dark inside
of a necromancers head
there can be no second coming
seriously breathing before the I
collapsing by midnight's calling
there can be no other
than he that occupies manner
winter walking with I to you
a few more hissing moments
only to find the bed occupied
drains held at gunpoint
solemnity is evening's lost relic
floating in sordid matter
of who we are
organic to the very core
blinking twitching a relief
a sigh in the high after burn
of clinging to the impossible
the continuity of the end
all is by the fluke of I
in the window by the name
of the transient
wound breath solitude
Poetry by Bob
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Written on 2015-01-02 at 20:30
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Bob |
Texts |
by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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