Nah, they won’t come.
The movement I crave
the stillness in which I used to bask
my head, leaning back
words of mine swirling in the air, free of my mouth
kids, lost and found in their own world
the sun, high just enough
I
her
the…
nah, they won’t come!
And I won’t go.
*tittle taken by Edgar Allen Poe’s “the Imp of the Perverse”*
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