this poem does not pretend to make sense
your blood is not lost on me,
this pearly connection a dreaded thought.
in the shallows of your soul i wait,
pained by unheaviness
crushed by your gravity
indebted to the spaces between breaths.
emptiness and willingness stem of similar roots,
both making excellent reasons to leave.
everything of lilac hue surrounds me;
under the tapestry of ink spills and bright spots
i accept what isn’t mine.
don’t get attached, don’t launch attacks.
make for a meaningless life in which
a white flag is raised
and the predators are polite.
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