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Click hereHistory, as seen through the misty eyes of a cynic
Years erode truth.
Cloudy details get lost in fogs of bacchanalia,
flushed down fetid traverses, diluting.
Yesterday we made love.
The earth rose to greet once chaste flesh,
pulling, joining, connecting.
My detailed transcription falters.
Fog distorts the magic,
moves it to lost realms of mystical
where nothing is the way it seems.
Books dance around the fantasy.
The akashic is probably that way,
just bold exclamation points, mislaid adjectives.
Life perpetually teases.
Lost in goals, endings, purpose eludes,
cavorts with amnesia,
memory’s shroud fading the edges.
and thoroughly enjoyed this. nicely done.......don
I missed your poetic charming writes, more please! (~_~)
Life perpetually teases.
Lost in goals, endings, purpose eludes,
cavorts with amnesia,
memory’s shroud fading the edges.
very nice~
Ever the cynic...your world paints a reality chek..in this one...for sure...ty
Nice one.
The mind clouds history's truths
By blocking and forgetting all that is unpleasant.