in minutes of deleted devotion
your life of too many turns sings these words
demanding only correct adoration
in service of undoing youthful imprudence
and desperate for a name now dead
digesting death and misery’s hours
in essays dividing and rolling
did you intend respite accentuating nothing
so much of this life tangled in dedications
when shining there beside you
unseen in ecstatic light
a more authentic love exists
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