My place. My nook.
My home away from nowhere.
Here where the sun thrives on my body's ink.
Here is where evil is reborn. Eternally.
May 15, 2004
morning-afters
are pale, torn and guised
sad and yet
with a facade of smiles
longing to touch
each other's soul
but could not
would not
should not
but how may i survive
these morning-afters
in the absence
of your squinty eyes?
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