she clings to anguish

 

 

 

illusions

in obscure
disorder

there she suffers an obvious invasion

seduction is ultimately an ambush

 

like the devil owns

the sinners deal

 

like refugees retreat

running from the powerful

 

far inside her

trembling

like fruit withering on the vine

hasten the light

alternatively, she may turn to dust

 

too far to be a dying star

shadow echoes imitate the empty

 

they ricochet into you

and relentlessly rip the kiss from your lips

 

trying not to think of it,
she didn't see him anywhere

enshrouding herself in a shell
penetrated by languishing

there she clings to anguish

 

religions obsess with the need for confession
celebrate with a celibate or live with condemnation

 

like a sinner caught with secrets to suppress

afraid to fly waiting seeing through stone dead eyes

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