roma

i only know you

like a cotton the wind blew and rolled in front of me

and tampered my consciousness;

the ambivalence was messy —–

i was wrapped by dimming photography

evoking something that dwells in

your eyes and in the recesses of my mind,

an eyes that resembles the dead.

i read that there’s a dream in death and that resistance

sparks consciousness, but i only know you….

is too bad for me?

you walked into my heart and it seems to be enough.

i tighten my grip to my struggles somehow

and it wasn’t enough.

there must be something more than just looking at you…

more than these visuals and imagery and this wall of illusion.

from ” a mess of lovepoems “

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