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work in progress wednesday #23
Shlomo If I can find a way to be alive in every moment I can make it. I write this on the fly as if it makes sense. The one who resembles me reassembles the memory I look to them but they see straight through me. As I fake a life without consequence I think if I can make art then it can make sense. My body tosses in the bed you own dreaming that you come to save me Am I turning your stomach over making you sick like the months you made me as I watch the clock until I know you're up counting the breaths until my sky gets blue If I were able to I'd give my sleep to you so that when you wake tomorrow everything feels new and with the sun and your love I tell myself I can be okay too
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Note: I am nearing the end of my 25-poem promise to myself! Thanks for coming all this way with me.