unnamed emotion
slips: over my head
like tepid bathwater
in a clawfoot tub
coil into dimly lit
memories;vintage motifs
where the glamour
is all but tarnished
lips once stained smoothred
are cracked;withered
not fit for a kiss nor a
memoir of the evening
submerged beneath heavylight
weight of regrets?no.
lack of: a detached nostalgia
featuring no judgement, only
the autumn wisps of when you felt anything at all.
-kiagen mcginnis
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