Some nights the waves
come gentle to lul some sleep
through this thick skull
or the sun will never set
on my Arctic limbs, and
limbo lasts so long.
But monsoons and hurricanes fall
- inevitable as loves
short-lived zephyrs- to
rock and cascade and pull
me to the precipice;
it's just me and the blowing
thick 100 mile darkness
hungry
for my soul.
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