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Confessions of a Solitarian

Amsit the plagued world
with its unfinished heartbeats and sinister reconciles
ephemeral innocence is slaughtered
man's essential profanity is his own constitution
a fragile foundation caressed by tendrils
ever so slightly shifting
a wilting flower in bloom
the repugnant taste of angel dust lingers in the hands  of a child
as they, collect  debt of sin
forgive me father blasphemy was not my apparent tongue
all the people have left and in God's absence, i’ve harbored a dulcet taste for ill worn hope
I sink my teeth in the apple
cavities produce between my prayers
i do not see what i can believe in
i do not believe in what i can see






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