Where lips have parted in dismay
For words of “Come what may”
Have left us both in disarray

Where hands hang in confusion
Lost between thoughts of allusion
Torn away from their illusion

Where eyes shift fast and fleeting
From the impulse of the meeting
That fell fast from friendly greeting

Where thoughts have failed to filter
Through the heartstrings hell has pilfered
Do we stumble, so bewildered


About A. P. Christopher

I'm a cynic, a nihilist, and a pessimist. I'm a hermit filling the interior walls of my empty cavern with the words and pictures of a mind adrift in disparity. I also like lifting weights.
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