Take a minute to breathe in steady longing
and make yourself into a work of art.
Wanderlust
You bite the dust
on the far side of
near sightedness.
All along the corridors of forbidden
and
unbidden taste sensation
you make your mark in
silver and black.
It smokes off of machine dust when you write
your name in the grime of dystopia.
Hallelujah.
The Lord and his Lady are looking
through me
I cannot locate my ability to see or send
No mend.
A broken picture frame.
You're something much more beautiful than invisible should be.
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