I a diet of feelings
by kisses that fall,
touch not touch me,
that cold hands can not feel my body,
feelings isolated
whispers that I hear,
eyes that I no longer look,
dark nights,
summer storms,
written pages thrown into the wind,
cries that cross the mountains in the form of echoes,
cold coffee in the morning,
sheets that become my only shelter,
withered flowers of indifference.
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