Poetry of place

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What there is

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Those eyes

Are they human

I'm lost

In freedom

You look at me like I'm naked

You don't see

My body

 

Fear

The echo

Rings sourly

Your hands

Upon

My soul

 

Will it ever come back

I ask

As your shadow disappears

Only no one knows

Such are the remains

 

Contusions

The confusions they leapt from

A tourniquet on the heart

Romance

Feels unfinished 

But leaves its imprint

To go nowhere

That is what there is

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