Everyday, seems like forever, /I shed my skin,/I left it behind,/ for the fireworks in the whites of the eyes, /witnesses, standing shoulder to shoulder. /I pass through the forest/in layers of frost,/where no one and nothing grows./Roll down the car window and vomit./I’m just a fool /for the scripted black magic /in details embellished,/saint and felon /the tales of their tumble /downward from ice floes,/in the clutch of an average grip.
Forever Everyday
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Poetry in Motion 