From Desert Sun

on

I know your fast,

in the wind gasp

I do my breath as

I sit here I grasp.

I would think us

before was more

than what resides

upon halls floors.

The sections of

my mind is such

a warehouse of it,

memory of touch.

Tears and blood I

slip where I hide

all the torture sly

I don’t bat an eye.

You’re strong too,

I lay back in tune

to the blue moon

eclipsed so soon.

Where you reside

is under my soul.

I pray pompous I

pray for a control.

Yet you roam free,

far in a plush land.

Where I’ve been is

heat a desert sand.


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