Monday, March 20, 2023

I LONG TO TOUCH HIS FACE


trevorme

I see him in my mind’s eye.

He is dead, and so am I.

He floats alone in the ocean.

I have taken the dark potion.

His body slowly drifts near,

A countenance without fear.

I long to touch his face,

Not of the human race.

My spirit glides free.

And soon, so shall he.

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