A staircase running up to yesterday's clouds
It is your crisp-starched shirt, smell of earth,
A killer whale torturing slow hours to death
Gnawing at my tired limbs and shredding
memory flesh from the bone of ecstasy
Lonliness draws parallel lines and laughs in the face of my confused forays into
book shops, moon lit sidewalks strangers' smiles, full shopping bags
on Saturday markets, she whispered dreamy words of tenderness and signed a pact of honor. I was to go wherever she did and she was to never leave me alone
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