The Ghosts on My Side

had unfinished business in this place.

A card was pulled, the clock ran out

they hid me from the Usher at the gate.
The moment of parity revealed itself

clouds parting in the middle of the night.

A super moon painted upon black ink

a startling wake with three-point-oh sight.
Foolish love, blind with lust

a misanthrope born to wait

choices run out when the roof caves in

a marigold blossom in a minimal place.
Timid earnings soft ...

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