"riding into oblivion"
love lines in my palm remind me that my
future is
clouded. each scar is a storm.
my hands are merely instruments of the
weather.
we're not finished speaking out. we're taking back
our glory days. when all of the sleepers drift
away, i will let my tongue roll into verbatim.
clouds and mouths agape. eyes paving the way
to charcoal black roads and
midwestern sunsets.
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