AllTheGhosts...

DREAM/ LO ST/ ART

Sunday, 2 August 2009

Fifty Odd Words No. 28

We hope to die, and then fall into each other, like there is no life left except between long-held exhalations, stolen by shameful regret.

Your words are lost in amongst deafening silence - I hear the bursting beat come back.

I burn to dust.

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