Three Nights
*
(inspiration)
I want to open the door
and throw myself down
the mountain we live on top of
merely fall through the darkness
and fall until wings are growing out
*
(imitation)
Down
in the highway viaduct
the voices of the dead are heard
loudly roaring
as thoughts we are
as cursory
*
(an act)
Humid and red
the petals of the carnation
trampled on the club floor
like the love I try to keep on hand
and give to you
you with an avoiding face
poem by Mikael Ejdemyr
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