Images and expectations

I retain the picture I have

of you in my crowded head

now I surely know that vision

is long gone and truly dead

 

a sight in the distance is clearly

as unclear as fogged glass

eyes deceiving a clouded mind

forgiving all who trespass

 

and transgress this crooked line

where nothing is solid

and the ephemeral reigns

where love is so squalid

 

but yet still retains a dirty purity.

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