Urban Apparition
He emerged
from the
underground,
or was it the
sky?
Injured by the
noise,
motionless,
silent,
badly wounded.
Kneeling between
the afternoon
& the
inevitable,
veins attached
to horror, the
asphalt.
Holy eyes
sagging,
completely naked
almost blue,
that’s
how white he was.
His bare skin
a nectar petal,
a bipanel chest
of soft full moon,
such echo of my echo,
fuck beats and tides.
Give me your balaa.
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