it must be loneliness
that is the common thought
the suns and seasons of my regret
chasing themselves
like wild dogs
in the snow of my failure I
write my name
trace my path to bury
this is the dream I have
at day I see my face
rise and burn above me
diffuse & used up what
has all my life remained
half hidden half
seen
the face harbors
itself like a criminal
what damage it suffers
cannot be undone
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