my loneliness ages
as a fine vintage
harvest
of repetitive autumns
forever wintering in
these
depths of dark
heartedness
springing forth now
as i accompany my
self through this season,
a sadness like summer
passing
knowing all
is fleeting
loneliness is knowing
connection
knowing what was what
can be but
isn't
my loneliness is fine
tuned to these melancholy
strings
strung out on love, strafed
by life scraping
by
watching myself passing
through just passing
through,
just
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