Τετάρτη 11 Νοεμβρίου 2015

"That Morning"

The drops of the hot coffee
falling.
The sense of your cold absence
growing.
Smelling the steam of your illusion...
your aspect;
vivid, lurid, karmic.
My gap;
drear, violent, necrotic.

WHERE ARE YOU?

~by, theresnoend (a friend of our blog)

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