How ordinary
You are,
When you lift your head
To see the sun has set
Beyond the banks of the ocean’s edge
Where I have placed my lips
To swallow its indulgence
To me.

How disciplined
This fable has become,
Outlining your form in the rust.
How unwise
You always were,
When disease is your new ease.

How many moments
Of your heart
Are counted, as beats upon the wind?
How many caught seconds
Are left to the tides,
Never waking you, to the sunrise?

Your dissatisfaction,
Your subtraction
Of emptiness, in your palms,
To what I hand out
To ease your qualms.
Your life,
My sorrows.

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