Source : Berlin ArtParasites |
There is nothing
I would forget.
I would forget.
Your bright eyes that squinch,
in an air conditioned room,
the way you wear your blue shirt.
in an air conditioned room,
the way you wear your blue shirt.
how gaze turns into blood rush,
how words fall out beneath you
how words fall out beneath you
but there are heart rapids of yours
I have not touched
and longing for.
I have not touched
and longing for.
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