in time my dear,
the soft,whining sound of
hours
slipping
past your open palms
and
through your moist fingers
will cease to amaze.
or even feel the need to take in a breath for your presence-
.you look like rain and slow burning cigarettes
blank check. ink wash. arson-ette.
shutting the door on another night of angels
and other fiery things
meant to complicate- (the darkness.)
. .
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