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What I Imagined

I won’t sweep you under the rug anymore,
no, won’t imagine that I can,
oh death. Leap into my habitual core
and blast it utterly. I ran and ran
from you for years, imagining I could live
without you, with beauty by my side.
I had pleasures and my triumphs, true,
but like lovers once forthcoming and kind,
they became distant or of a bitter mind.
I imagined I could be fulfilled without you,
with grace and beauty by my side.
Yet these can be only when one has died.

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One Comment

  1. Liked this and A Brief Earthly Visit as well. Flowed nicely and you can’t truly live until you have died, yeah that’s cool.

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