You stand behind me already
Pinched by new boots
Liking how I like you but
Liking limply back
Our auras are dancing
Me tango, you modern
Steps misstep
Egos clash
Oh how they clash
The bothersome elixir of youth
The joker of an eye sense
The drunken interpreter
Of truth
Our blindfold talk gropes for
A rhythm in synch
A promise to hold
At this point
Can’t ever say exactly when
I divest myself of integrity
Start bidding for a silent skin
Your squeaked out boots
Obediently neat
Our auras sleeping
Purified of words
Time flows
Something starts
Its own death roll
In the turn
Is seen to smile
Unwillingly
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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