curled up in your handmedown pose
waiting for that finished case
w/uncut hair &the wants of time spent
not alone behind buildings but alone w/a purpose
&fresh set of ideals. dreaming over
unopened duffles topped with turning points &milestones. afraid
of becoming an ordinary thought
or a passing moment. you take the nearby rocks
&build yourself an altar in an attempt to
dryup soakedstones &have more than a square meal but
instead- a vision of…
well- just a vision.
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