London Poem: Day 10

27 August

We speak in rhythms,
Like tumultuous waves of oceanic currents
Thrashing upon themselves,
Going nowhere.
Pain comes undoubtedly
As two bodies becoming one
Continue moving through each other.
Where do we go?
Words raise themselves
Only to fall back–
Everything is swallowed
Until we run out of room.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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