Friday, March 15, 2019

Return

This loneliness is deeper
than conversation can plumb;
It sits in my heart like a landfill.

This loneliness grows older
by centuries, in seconds;
It seeks friends but meets acquaintances.

In this lonely corner
of the rain-soaked city
I ponder the most soul-wringing thing:

I so desperately need
       to
            cut
                  my
                        nails.

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