The London Hours, 2012


it was soaring
in a dream
as a cloud
one of
gray and dripping
removed and far
tears no more
and steps
were firm
in a mirror
i started
the trip
looking straight
it could have been
with you the
crazy dream of
fast drives and riches
deep desire
it was for once
too many doors
blisters and blue
dark blue
band aids
next one is day light
and me awakened
us on a summer
night and no
no counting of years
no missing of days
no forgetting taste
no i remember
the route



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