Union
An organised mess,
No train of thought,
Just swirls and swoops,
Campaign abort
If ironed and pressed,
A chain no longer,
Confused and tangled,
But maid of honour
A taste of love,
So now you see,
Instilled in us,
A fantasy
Exchange our hearts,
Entrusting me,
Through pain feel power,
Uncomfortably.
Sunday 29th August 2021 10:49 pm
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