Monday, September 17, 2018

thoughTrafficking

Is this place 
This whirring oneness 
That’s clogging me up
Making me sway 
A flatulent sigh 
Has it been heard 
Announced me in
Ponder my existence 
There she is again
A smile out of line 
Running away 
A trail of sand 
Man seeks a mother 
In every thigh adorn 
Then looking up 
The faces are fine 
Let it all be 
This is the here
That wells the space 
Of a lost detour

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