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Image for the poem Fly

Fly

I'm falling into
the abyss.
your face is on
the walls.
a cigarette is all
I get for my trouble.
no trouble at all.
everything is hidden
by sound.
I can't feel the ground.
just a blur of light
and color.
they crowd around
to wait for their turn.
I've given up.
the heat is oppressive.
this experiment is
oppressive because
behind the white line
you can't cross is desire.
allyfaye
Written by allyfaye
Published
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