❚❚
FOOLS
is that is ends;
and the heart I know I'm breaking is my own to leave the warmest bed I've ever known

lifeinpoetry:

say a bruise is just a rebellion of blood,
a rupture of capillaries & all the ghosts they
failed to contain & is that not the body
in its primal beauty? what of the self
can evolve without breakage
            of touch?

George Abraham, from “portrait of reality, in fragments,” published in Nashville Review

(Source: as.vanderbilt.edu)

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