London Poem: Day 296

9 June

The world is still bleeding,
Emptying its insides underwater –
And still, words hover thickly
In our minds to spin the heart
Into its gentle waver, blankly
Tumbling with the rest of falling
Bodies crumbling too softly for any
Of us to recognize.
Keep bleeding little thing,
And let us go to sleep –
We’ve bungled this beyond repair.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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