poetry

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Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash

In the melancholy contemplation
of lives not lived and
inside the blurry nostalgia
for the never-was and the half-happened;
is the dark-haired girl
that never was
…yet, somehow, still *is*

(Drowning deep in the locked tall tower)

Reliving moments that never were…
in a land where hazy memory and simple wish mix;
and bittersweet untruths
slip from the mind
like words thought of
— while simultaneously forgotten

(tip of the tongue)

Better oblivious is she,
from never a taste to be had
of that heat that you give
from that sun that burns within you;
that energy
(contagious)
ignites
lifts

/alas/

(disheveled dark curls)

The moment in between sleep and waking
hovering in the Land of Forget
where only pleasure exists

Of what do you dream while soft breath rises?

..

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