All The While

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How those eyes looked
Ticked off on one or two fingers the sky we stood under
Rain was the edge, sunlight the folds

travel again around corners bent for your majesty
the crown went missing – never the pain at losing it
steady we want to keep our gaze locked on perhaps
everything but the contrails our love made
leaving for different…
no, different horizons always different
or so you say

I don’t trust those tender shoulders
cover them

more by LORD BISON

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Lord Bison

Jazz-soaked spirit running circles around despair...or something like that. Really. Lover of words, lover of being in worlds New Yorker, artist, Virgo besieged by airhead tendencies akin to Libra moves. Bronx is home base. Began an obsession with writing at seven and twenty-odd years hence, still at it. Enjoy/love/hate/be bored/appreciate to your heart's content. Or something like that.

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