My Candle Burns Underwater

Two Cities..jpegIn a word, insomuch of a breath that was taken in vain

This thing occurred.

A tale of two cities. Forgotten bliss. Memories of hope. Now.

I die. I don’t believe. I try. I do not specify.

Maybe. A Life on the stage for me. Assignations. A plea. Nothing.

Scattered frozen peas. Of an idea. Art was the answer all along.

Now I have something to show. Of ideas caught up in tallow that burns slow.

Maybe I have come of age. Now. Tomorrow. I have been here before remember.

Remember your name and date of birth and what will follow will follow. I have a talk. I have a talk.

My candle burns underwater. Flip the coin of ages.

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