Dying behind this seat,
Exo-long-dead-skeleton writing because of love's daily metaphor for light, Thriving upon the face whose only wish is for death's unimpeded hopefully accepted in... Door. If all I've been is a serpent, So be all this poetry, If something more... May those who read be... More than me...!
In lieu of,
Dying...
Saturday, July 1, 2017
'Home Day... Isn't Home Anymore...'
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