silver spaded thorns

my soul aches over the sound of when we ceased time
lying in a puddle 
staring at a dusk sun that won’t set
I am truthfully troubled but forbidden to leave the tarnished
packing parcels
traveling forwards 
deep fresh breaths
clutching onto my ignorance 
left with a humiliated pinch on the heart
I am hesitant to venture 
but my legs continue to sway onwards
into the unborn eclipse 

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