3/13/98
Unruly nights and heavy dawns
What we were, we are not.
so I throw myself down
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beat on the walls of my room.
The shaddow
of the moon
throbs in sync with the stars;
everything is alive.
we went, and it went
and memories mean nothing.
I know this night, and it comes again to haunt me
my soul strives
to break free
and beat the earth
with open fists.