Poetry?
Anybody heard this?
After you left,the wind now my companion
I lay on my back, dry-eyed, open-eyed,
chilled by your flawed face
It plucks at me in all my silences
and if I yielded, then I would bring you
raw unlovely sentences
distil for you my acid treacheries
which gather just below my skin
and how would you thank me then
holding the graceless sweepings of my heart
as if they mattered to you, as if the sparse
script we have invented was a love story
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