deepundergroundpoetry.com

Maime

 


The hardest
stories come
from empty
homes

finding a
throat forced
into swallowing
black stars

in cesspools
we claim to
be oceans,

hitting bottoms
of empty glasses
as strange places
turn into lullabies
we cannot sing

hoping
black stars
greet you
in collision

to guide
you back
home.
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