Mid-Summer Doubt

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middle of the night apathy, empathy…

make shift post traumatic…mental surgery

these gestures grapple my tension…

and, tackle the feet

leading me to question the woman…I had hoped to retrieve

it is the middle of the day…

thoughts…going, gone,

go away

when time is tucked in the fray

sympathy, mockery…feelings of purging and perjury…

dance in ambient light

fallen…mid-stream to the rapid, blur of being on the wayside

the woman I once retrieved

questioning…

‘why fight?’

so often she is a parody of nature

in the midst of a heatwave…humid doubt creeps in

shaking the heavily salted sweat from my mane

elements needed in forgetting why she…and, I…came

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