to dance with the dead

“Hi there!
want a memory from Kosovo?”

I got plenty…
I got rivers flowing as if flowing inside
mountains high enough to reach the skies
I got clouds parting when viewed by me
and thoughts making me what I plan to be

but yes,
do give me one more.

a night through the rain
cigarette in hand
wet– painted red toe nails
lies told by the one I love
and not a single “sorry…”

but yes,
do give me one more.

a glass of drank vodka
small enough to put myself inside
and bury all I feel…

and I am no necromancer,
but this one always
rises-
logic goes-
again,
I feel.

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3 thoughts on “to dance with the dead

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