Empty
You have begun staring emptier than me,
the spiritual distortion leaves me speechless.
Of all the parts you could've picked,
You chose the mole right above my upper lip.
As if you have the power to remove
birth marks with an empathetic laser surgery...
And sometimes the gaze flutters down and up,
instantly to my eyes when the realisation hits,
and the void loses its ingenuity to greed.
Copyright © Cloud Fever | Year Posted 2025
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