take the time to see yourself
as magic of a lost era
where men still made rum of their sons
where women made sons to daughters
a final note on the floor
we have been here before
not as lovers or as brothers
but as stars in constellations
holding together the night
till the sun rises in our absence
i cannot wonder no longer of myself
but as i lay here waiting on you
i can try to sip from my glass
holding your polaroid close to my heart
my little lazarus
YOU ARE READING
if not human
Poetrythe anthology of emotion, the passing of life, the epilogue of pure, unfiltered regret this is "if not human" poems, prose and stories from the dark
