deepundergroundpoetry.com
Afternoons after
I've been stealing stale air
from your coffin,
breathing it onto passers-by
to see them turn black,
dry up and crack.
But they just carry on,
plodding to the shops
bringing back their plastic bags
and sympathetic smiles.
I hope it rains today.
from your coffin,
breathing it onto passers-by
to see them turn black,
dry up and crack.
But they just carry on,
plodding to the shops
bringing back their plastic bags
and sympathetic smiles.
I hope it rains today.
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