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Overindulged Soul

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My soul, swollen vessel of honey, peppered on the outside

with the glint of moonlit water, blooming with autumn leaves

and sweet cardamom in its tender belly, clinging to my bones

like the way a dandelion shouts through fields of grass,

loud and desperate and fleeting in its singularity.


My soul called to you for nourishment and you fed it,

you fed it your rich smile and your blueberry words,

popping in quick succession and coming to rest

in my fleshy soul, my languishing companion of bones,

drooping until it wept softly on the pavement.


I have overindulged, little hot air balloon, floating delicately

until you cleansed your system, shredding my soul’s contents;

it now lays draped across my organs like a forgotten letter,

ink bleeding from my skin in rivulets of the dullest grey -

the very stars have extricated themselves from my sodden grip.



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