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Spent Wonders

by V. Blake

every single mark it makes
is gray that isn't blue
that paints for me
a world to waste
on images of you--
so tick the time
all tied in knots
pick some fights
and call the cops;
spin in the same circles
as we slip--
raise a voice
from birth today
then drop a line
to atrophy
by three uncertain decades
at a clip,
but no one here
will speak a word
until the stitches
rip.

12/23/2016

Posted on 12/23/2016
Copyright © 2024 V. Blake

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 12/24/16 at 03:22 PM

I love the way this sounds and moves.

Posted by Julie Adams on 01/01/17 at 01:57 PM

I love the flow of this

Posted by Rob Littler on 01/03/17 at 10:16 PM

...the more I read this the more I want to read this, especially while listening to my current musical choice in mackintosh braun.

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