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I pulled my head out from the clouds
as I looked at where I was:
I had my face so deep in that water
I mistook your eyes for stars.

But you are only a farmer-
Growing fruit to watch it spoil.
You planted your roots of rapture,
Released your seeds amidst my soil.
Then I seen the way you was shaking her hand
Like you was milking her soul..
and I became a weightless name brand
Trapped within your world.


I’ve spilled so much time from my watch
that the hands are now closed fists.
Pounding and punching replace the sounds of tic and toc
as they beat the face of lost patience.

Like a plate of wasted food
You keep leaving me on the table.
But there are so many people starving for more of me.
So you can leave your cutlery
For the next who’s able
to fulfill their appetite
on my love without your label.

Britta B.

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