IF i could be born again
into dirt again
i would wish
to feel again
a familar thing
: sweet dear love

Oh what i become
& how everything
my raised hand
would make you hurt
all broken bones
unrepaired stains
of time HOW YOU ARE
someone else & i
am still here ~

my dearest love
my dearest friend
who never goes away
in the END.

I give everyone i know
love and my hand & all
of my soul / gently
in broken prose.

:: 02.18.2022 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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