does she know

how in my heart

it feels

as if

something’s a spill

something’s a miss

completely obsolete

so discreet

a piece awaits

her softness

and sweetness

I wonder

when and where

I had lost

their trace

along the way


near her feet

it must have


since even strings

that were tied with care

do break


beneath her tears

above her wrists, I held

a tiny prick

which i carelessly shared

and like wind she swept

far away


like a page filled

with notes

my yearnings clouded

a rusting sky

with my presence

in her

so incredibly decreased

like vapor on

a summer street

inside her

I could feel

a hurt

like ripples

ruining a still lake

just like…



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