Untitled 21
We’d meet and collapse into each other
like two stars burning out.
And then what?
We’d run away from their whisperings and they’d
all talk about the escaping compass lovers.
And then what?
We’d be together, live together, have a life together,
despite their burning inside-eyes.
And then what?
We’d be buried together, their cold spades finally hiding
our weathered hands, still holding each other.
And
then
what.
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