A mistake: you owned.
takes my oxygen away
decades-old | we are
fire like we breath
this air – somewhere.
Afraid and there
we are ghosts anyway
— so forget? About
me. We walk even
when we are dead.
The living talk
in empty voices :
like back to square
one == the heaven is
the leader of our
voices and we all
rejoice because some
are believers //shame
on the rest\\they leave
us. The stuff of life.
:: 11-15-2017 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 