Sunday, November 7, 2010

day 311


they follow us always
the woods the oceans the deserts the cities
they show up in our desolate dreams:
warm skin and
cold cold bones
and fuck, either they
still call or
don't call
our eyes
meet
their
perfect
eyes

and i thought they were phantoms
but they were
only humans
i am only human
so tragically
human
i am not your
muse

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