5 november 2023
Sphinx Was Watching
Read me if you
care. I am going to
rip off the lid of oven.
How many faces
you will wear, when it is
raining silver and gold?
It sounds like wrought
bones. I find myself suspended
in air, like humming bird,
not like drone.
It was a mutual
suicide of opioid love. It
does not belong to me. the
divested home of words.
The pink wounds
on the wall of memory.
Not me, not you.
24 december 2024
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