let the dead carry their own
he said, and i trust
him.
there is no lie behind his eyes
but i just cannot
put this down.
i'd need a rubric
or someone with
shoulders stronger.
Removal.
Removal.
just Beats in my brain.
Remember.
Remember,
even He wept.
< --------------------------------------------------------------------------
the crush of youth
is heavy on me,
when i feel so old.
my skin is parchment.
my bones too brittle.
i have to dance slowly
these days
one wrong move
and
SNAP!
gold dust
from the most
ancient of deserts
floating on the wind.
there is dirt in my blood, and
words excised
into my parchment skin
that are older
than language.
i cannot say how my skin reads,
but
i learn myself
from people i meet.
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