Like a stone resisting
vengeful spirits
forged in monsoon tears
from the Aquarian's ladle
I stop
Ants haul ice shards
on backroads
beneath my skin
Regret
like lava so ancient
falls from my eyes
Your ghost
with cigarette in hand
stares at me
from across the street
And of course it happens
on
this
particular
day
in June
The current urges me
to let go
A stone should never know its place
Should never have a choice
a will
intent
Stop resisting
(But, that would be a choice…)
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