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Night-Work

Stranded Without Gods V.1

By Patrick SantiagoPublished about a year ago 1 min read
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Night-work...

I bend at it's whim and let the craze embrace my face

Beauty recites a time where innocence bloomed and curiosity warned...

...warned of a time when most things stayed...just that...curious

But night-work has shed me a true shape, unveiling scales of wanting beneath misleading writings...

Night-work...

I rise with the moon, and walk amongst the glimmering buildings of somber blue light...

Alleyways tight as the force beneath your thighs; a coaxing towards unrelenting compromise...

Night-work...

A eulogy for acceptance - a reality check for those hopelessly divine

I play with duality like an opaque marble, a coin standing upright, spinning, a never-ending spiral...

Two faces converging at the lips fighting for dominance, but the tongue is already sour...

And when the night-work begins, it doesn't matter which mouth is louder - in the end it's your heart we'll devour...

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

Patrick Santiago

Writing because I'm too poor to make movies. Working to change that!

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