The London Hours, 2012

Standard

*
it was soaring
in a dream
as a cloud
one of
many
.
gray and dripping
removed and far
tears no more
and steps
were firm
.
in a mirror
i started
the trip
looking straight
naked
.
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
sleep
.
no counting of years
no missing of days
no forgetting taste
no i remember
the route

.

.

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