I premember you.
Seen who you were then there here now.
We’re time worms, burrowing.
It’s the first last straw, I know.
Now we’re gonna run ’til the end is beginning.
Now we’re gonna go home and do this all again.
We’re time worms, knotted, burrowing.
There ain’t no borders between heavens and hells.
There’s warm mittens and deep snowfall.
There’s loud music and wet kisses.
It’s the last first straw,
When you start to mind the borders.
You’re under a smoking, smiling gun
And it’s the last night you’re trying to live through,
Though you don’t believe in eternity.
You don’t believe we’ve done this before.
We could try to hide high in the treetops,
Build a green-walled fort with a thatched roof.
But we’re time worms, always burrowing.
Always coming back around.
I can’t deny what I will have do done.
I can’t forget you what time wants.
I can’t deny you what time gets.
Excellent poem
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Thanks, Jade. Appreciate ya taking time to read.
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Well, that was not my best year but it had its moments! 🙂 This one speaks to me of dystopia where love happens anyway. And then you give us the cosy feels in the dark, like this, which is beautiful:
“There ain’t no borders between heavens and hells.
There’s warm mittens and deep snowfall.
There’s loud music and wet kisses.”
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If I write a memoir, the 1995 chapter will be titled, ‘The Year of Breaking’
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