FOR THIS SOMETIMES WE LOSE
There's a spirit chasing me; something
from the darker side, I think. It jumps
out now, from behind bushes and trees,
in the mordant light of Winter. Wrong
time for me, all the fun and jocularity.
I can take nothing more than that, and
this spirit knows only to chase. Me.
-
We can't talk; no reciprocity. If I speak,
it fades...and it never talks to me.
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