the salamanders sing
their ancient song.
While some stars burst
and others simply shut,
I wonder if I've been
here for too long.
All covered, now, in
dust and ambergris,
I listen for the
screeching butterflies
but only hear the
shouting of the bees
and see the hedgehogs
making their goodbyes.
The wailing worms are
mourning spade-slain friends,
the spiders bark and
growl at passing cars,
and so, tonight, my
sanity depends
on trying not to burst,
like all those stars.
And, like a song
forever on repeat,
I reassess my errors
and defeats.
LM
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