Loose thoughts gathering faces that no longer exist in the presence of realities calm. Memories fade and reemerge like a mirage from the heart that’s cooled in the palms. And yet in the afterlife where life keeps on a pause mimics past self that hasn’t learned a fuckin thing. It’s all in the head of recollections wondering why others use a revolving door to create and leave endless dreams. As the mind pretends to enjoy what’s left to the imagination for a fool to replay on the reel behind the eyes. Scattered about is the contents of what used to be turned rotten into the numb shelters the heart from the hidden time.
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