Those Whispers
Those Whispers
by Positive Mark
The memory we ran from has found us again.
It rides above confines of space, time, and limits.
Those whispers are rubbish. Don’t speak to dead men,
but the bird hit the window and broke his lil’ neck.
I don’t wanna talk anymore.
I just want to sleep.
Copyright © Mark Morris | Year Posted 2025
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