and this is how I live

It was another December,
some other year,
another week,
some other day.

I was happy
or sad
or dreamy
or desolate.

The morning dawned,
the day ran away with time,
the night fell apart.

The sun,
the moon,
the hands full of lines filled with shifting stars.

Emptiness breeding emptiness.

And this is how it goes,
the life,
till I don’t get time to die.


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