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missed

By St Alcohol

Topics: Poetry Source: AllPoetry Original source

open door old fiend time he hates me in three ways and might be a friend she's gone she's here, she's there old man time cackles as i walk past to work button-down my empty bed i can smell her hair (so i tell myself) on her pillow. and it's just a month, till old time is a friend ticking off seconds; heartbeats that linger between squeezed hands as if to ask him to slow a bit and let us enjoy it the world is grey and cardboard, sans warmth or smile, like the low-light of evensong bells when i'd keep her awake because i couldn't stop touching her. Written January 9th, 2002 © on Jan 08 2002 04:20 PM PST   0 • 8

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"open door..."

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Author:St Alcohol

Source:AllPoetry

"open door..." by St Alcohol

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