the romans
considered love
to be friendship
gone mad. how
true that is.
and there's
little one
can do about
that, or right
the course, or
go back to where
it was before
madness struck.
and as i stand
here staring
at the ancient
ruins of the
coliseum in
rome, shading
my eyes in the
hot sun, i am
stunned at how
long it takes for
it to finally
turn from rubble
into dust.
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1 comment:
There's a certain countdown of sorts going on through prose. Like it.
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