|Once Upon A Stolen Love|
Stolen Love we are
Like moths drawn to light.
We met in rooms lit only by neon's
glow. Taking to back entrances disguised
with our new names for the same old shames.
We always met to fulfill the non-refillable.
To caress each other's empty spaces.
For a couple hours on a good . . .
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|Light's Eyes Dim|
| The man, aged beyond years|
gently pats his son's hand.
Feels burning heat of fevers.
Flush skin sweating streams just
yesterday's stage, today's touch too,
too Hot, dry no sweat, lips cracked.
Tomorrow's final symptom lukewarm
to cooling, cool, cold... tic, ticking.
'Daddy, daddy...' fingers . . .
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