10 sierpnia 2024
Hope Dies Daily
I was extremely
hurt. Your taped lips won't kiss.
I will die hundred moons.
Can you give me
freedom from the pink rocks
of salt and snow.
I think, I should not
drop your name at the edge
of my trembling poems.
I walk in sleep
to listen to your surrender
before the bald eagle.
You were always in
hurry to shut the book
of life without reading it.
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