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Our fingers sift
And search
through the
insustantiality
of hope.
That time worn phrase
of grasping at straws
meets
trembling, pallid hands.
We plant the seeds of nullity.
Blooming
Into a flowery bouquet
of dread.
Inhale.
Inhale this perfume of
slow acquiescence,
my friend.
Lie with me,
if you like.
Die with me ,
if you like.
I promise nothing.
I swear.
No light diffused
No spark defused
No breath muffled
No sound muted
Just lie with me
And wait.