I was…


I was…

I was.
Ardent column, spring moon.
Golden ocean, big eyes.

I searched for what I thought;
thought, like dawn in languorous dreams,
what desire paints on teenage days.
I sang, climbed
was light one day
dragged into the fire.

Like the gust of wind
that undoes shadows
I fell into the black,
the insatiable world.

I have been.

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