In the stars, my brain,
On off back out of pain.
Survival after my
hearts death
Didn’t know I had run
so quickly out of breath.
A cicada sings in the
cypress walk
Where I stumbled on your
word: your empty talk.
Nothing new, only the hum
of returning domestic ghosts
Singing disjointed verses that rhyme with maddening hopes.
Amber rum glows in
the pale fire,
Flames flicker to the
sound of a strident lyre.
Suddenly a hush falls onto the
night.
I have lost my will
to fight.
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