clenching.
i make out
your shadow
in the distance
i feel you
in my stomach
trench
it hollows
with the sound
of your
name
a ghost
of purple
flowers
softened
and milked
of appetite
pounded into
the steel of cement
i can smell
you
the rancid
rotting of
a life
the fear crawling
your veins
with
old news
old faces
old strange
pretending
To Smile
how heavy
are your feet?
how free?
5
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