The Fetid Question

When I walk alone, I find my pace increasing -

like fleeing from an adversary as of yet unseen.

While becoming leaner, cruel in my demeanor,

I'll cast these storied glances at the passersby who mean

no benign intention that I have come to know,

no promise of eternity through one intrinsic spark;

just a fetid question that's broadening alone:

"What could both of our flames combined do with all of this dark?"

 

 

 

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