where you never left and things
never changed -
we are sitting, right now,
on your bed, smoking and drinking tea,
just back from the gym.
You are reading me your thoughts
out of the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius,
whilst I ponder
the reason for the lonely tugging of my heart,
which can feel your absence,
even from here.
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In a world that waded out of us
a thing sat and sung and
offered its services as a shadow.
We showered in its trades of treason.
We thought the thing had rung
a wonder in us: But it was riddled
with reason as the last.
So much for love.
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