day is dark
and wind blows greasy low
across apples slumped in rotted grass
the sun isn’t bothered
by last night’s bottles
sentinel row of sour mistakes
i’m sat here at the table
nosing into soul
this is not the worst i’ll feel today
it doesn’t matter though
and none of it matters
as somewhere on the other side of the world
standing upsidedown
there’s you
dark beautiful
holding out your arms for the stars


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