Weak Spots Xxviii
"Is it even real if it doesn't last?"
—my Love, my Joy
Lasts in every spark
Of misery
"Happiness must always be fleeting!"
For us to enjoy
Those special moments
All the more—yes!
The way their eyes analyze
Despair and question it—
The way poetry blooms
When the brink of idea fosters
Power—mutability—hope—
Questions answered, ignited,
On lips that truly and madly
Suffer to love and become
2.28.20
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