those older posts

this raven of amiable taste,
does it yet pick the bones of the innocent departed?
the beauty that lies in darkness
never shall fade by being lightened,
never having been primarily _sinister_

what constitutes distance
and how cold it is now versus those days you remember?
whose privilege stands to gain
by marking little dots on a map?

in the end
in the end
it’s a touch and a kind word
and sleeping and smiling and hoping
hoping that it will never end

how soft your face must be,
but are you drunk?

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