Haunt me in your absence like the eye inside of puncture wounds. Hollow out a place inside your saddest memory to put my pain, to sing your final lullaby for these betrayed, indifferent ears, to act your sullen masquerade for eyes wary of crying.
And still persuaded by the hurt to fall asleep, by
Rumors of an epitaph whose slow, threnodic
Dreams are mourning better lacerations.
Pleasantries on bandages of older
Cuts that bleed a hopeful eulogy
For deeper and more sweetly
Painted pigments in my scars.
–
#amsterdam #nederlands
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