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What do you want of me?
the ghost, the lone lover writing poetry...
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Empty are the roads on the map
all the walks have been made in vain...
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Death, is but a beginning, or so said heroes of...
A journey far away, one must take on their own...
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the intangible rises and breaks through skin,
appearing as shards of lament, and in the...
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two saplings entwined by chance –
you lean on one another, for support...
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It was a fickle afternoon.
Up on the roof of your sixth floor apartment...
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you are to my poetry like the stars
are to infinity. the verses that blossom...
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Carved into me like I was of stone
thousand folds of faults and corrections...
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Bigotry, is that you with
the lost numbers...
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Do you think about it at all?
That we are trapped. There's nothing...
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All that was once meaningful
and destined, has lost all meaning...
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cosmic retribution / karma.
foolish to think stealing from boundless seas...