Tuesday, October 04, 2016

My Dear Renier





My Dear Renier,


you reached my bed,
turned around,  
and I left me 
feeling nothing!

Your onyx head
was the size of a spindle
spinning above my physique

like a pirouette knitting
a supernova on the peak
of my impossible soul.

And me?
I was the feathered 
comet tail of your 
what-could-have-been.

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