no great truths to be
found, which is
both the fear and the
truth itself
january trees filled
with nooses
a sleeping man in
a burning house
i keep coming back
to this, even on
the sunniest days
i still remember
seeing you for the
first time and then for
the last, but i’ve
forgotten the 20
years in between
would like to think
i was happy, at
least
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