I won't lie
I still feel it even
when I wish not to ,the urge to repeat what we did only once perhaps twice
before the world turned to ice, and I stare out at the same window she stared
out of at a landscape of traffic and parking lots and the skyline even a blind
man might recognize it allowed to trace it all out with his fingers, the
promenade of the waterfront, the peak of the Empire State, I feel it the
protrusion in my dreams, the Rush of the Earth the rise of its seas, the huff
and puff, and in and out, all overwhelming me, I sigh with a strange regret and
yet do not cease to want it, my Empire State exposed when I dwell too long on
it, my fingers clinging to each floor like a petty King Kong, she in one hand
as I swat away the planes I think distract me, as I rise.
Is all this love? is it love that really kills the beast or
is its death come gradually from the lack of love, unrequited, a monster
holding on for dear life so as not to fall
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