battle scars and broken hearts

you… and I… write different stuff
at unpredictable intervals of time;

the experiment looks like
a temperamentalish naked poetry;

but in very deed, —
it's a sense of humor in our mood;

it's life's pulse we trapped
in its battle scars and broken hearts;

it's our dark sky of winter's leisurely
crystallized by drones' foam;

it's wish's degree pulverizing oneness
to affect today, our atoms' thrill;

it's a hug and kiss, sent and caught,
(nervelessly), (for love shrills us both);


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