Me
Beyond the sweet timber smell of winter Walking wind curving body from the hinter
Fallen wet leaves smelling of cold bliss
Memories 30 years ago December myst
My sawdust to your stardust in a dark tomb Running water sounds under a Fall red moon
Heavy tears dripping down her breasts for years The climatic mood of this hour before your fears
Let us write this poem gasping for a final breath Lost in the meta forest just before my death
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