Spiderwebs caught me everytime I
Drowned. It's colder now, though, and
My evenings ceaselessly spiral through
Your letters today.
It's five in the evening and the sky's pitch
Black. Sunsets are early here, always on
The brink of swallowing my tardiness in
Their rush towards the Horizon.
I forgot to wear a sweater today, and the
Gooseflesh on my arm wrote silly sorts
Of letters in words somebody would probably
Understand.
I talked to you and forgot what wishes
Were in order, as per usual. Forgive me.
I remember dates. It's the days that have
Always passed me by.
29/11/2016
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