#137 (empty tokens)

artificial colour overload

he is longing for

the abysmal heart

of night

a stone left inside his right shoe

the faint smell of lilac buds

holding back

like this year’s spring

a reluctant lover

yet sunkissed

heavy gilded metal

dangling against

hundreds of chests

empty tokens

yet appreciated

like the cold punches

leveling emotions

30th April 2017

 

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