anniversary ceremonies (the things we cannot incinerate so we lie)
poetry by p. l. thomas
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Monday, September 24, 2012
mourning (the arc of my days)
mourning
(the arc of my days)
i
am frozen
in
my mourning
no
hope for noon
or
thoughts of evening
i
cannot fathom
the
cloak of night
the
arc of my days
stands
absent you
a
forever mourning
pointless
and still
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