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Writer's pictureSofia Ortiz

REM #7

Glitching in and out of dreams hoping to find you in 5D,

Between galactic gore, my soul will soar.

My mind made a muse of you

And I destroyed myself in the process.


You are imprisoned in the divine,

Now that your lips are off of mine.

Arsenic-infused honeysuckle kiss.


I’ll write about tonight tomorrow,

For fuel to feed the flame.

The parchment comes back crisp, with wisdom in your name.


“You are no one except the person you think you are.”

Smoke erupting from the ashes,

Stolen cinders from the love spell.


There is no birth or death.

I lay here, giving you

A couple of minutes to come back up to earth.




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