snow falls on eyelids imaginary insides where, in this land, a safe place to hide, in the arms of another, beast of beautiful, without the knife, come to die just a little bit and a bit more "deep breath" skin on skin delicate droplets of sweat no worry, rip yourself apart wondering, fearing what comes next just peace, sweet release if this moment is all we have why do we waste it with games, mind, reaped wrath because we do not know ourselves as much as we play, pretend to, and do because we bleed our "self involved" onto others, with little thought, hindsight exactly what we leave behind, once through survival of the fittest but who defined "the fit", first place? snow falls on eyelids, imagined as i awaken to your absence you were never really here or there just a mesmerizing mirage of manhood, betrayed and so the bleed, this removal tragic yet somehow in eyelids, snowfall shines, sunset and i smile, your smile returns again, you were always here and never left...within. begin. again. ("it's all gonna work out, man" and it is here, in his whisper, i somehow believe him, beyond the wanting wonder of when) bowen hart roselli 16 may 2020 ringwald love
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the realm of the poetic.
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January 2021
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