Monday, November 24

Fighting my desire

The smoke hid it all:
there was neither the girl
neither the woods
and neither the man.
The billows, clouds, columns
ranting, raving, shrieking
crying, fighting, dying
and yes that was all.

There was only smoke:
people came, leaped, and vanished,
i was left a bystander
to the prancing of whim.

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