The Loss

A black hole full of memories:
Some friends who knew all your secrets
And two or three unimportant lovers
Swirling and swirling around

Down my heart;
A stubborn beast that dreams away

.

“Don’t let go of my hand.”

… And then I hear goodbye again
From here, here on the edge.

Everything is so quiet now,
When I can only hear my own thunderstorm

.
.
.

There’s
No hand to hold while I stare at
The infinity on fire

.

ML

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