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By Ghazal

Guide my hand in a

Written eulogy contented

Of poetry.

In love, we both lack literacy,

We’re flowery on

Soberity’s tomb,

Hammering hearts

Heaving heathen homilies,

Speaking on the rim

Of your lips, in

Heavy hedonistic hymnes,

Hair grapevines, butterflies in

Barrel carcerated in chest’s confine,

I’m no better than an alcoholic.

Headlessly heedless


Your heavy liquor gaze

On an empty heart.

Words spun into

Dandelions dancing

Beneath spring sun’s

Restless breath when

Fall leaves. Binding

Songs sung through

Sedated dazes, Stories of

Fallin’ in orange

N’ brown fall leaves,

Each vein

Lines wishes on a

Shooting scar. Let

Days be long enough

To leave my mind

And be. Longing in

A suitcase. Me and poetry,

In your eternal embrace,

Where I belong.


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