this is an elegy for Innocence
time of death, unknown
maybe it was when needles
dug deep into flesh, stitch
i
n
g
together a life worth living, or
maybe it was nights spent under
stars, on piss-stained sidewalks,
trying to remember how I got there, or
maybe it was when the burn in my
throat became too much to bear, skin
hanging from clothesline bones, or
maybe it was simply, laying
with a man or a woman
sharing secrets and
growing old
t
o
o
soon


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