of regret

the bassinet
rocks softly
from the edge of a cliff
at the edge
of nowhere
where nothing
is what it seems
is as close
as the emptiness
in the center
of a heart

the wind
howls loudly
causing small cries
to join
the choral wonder
of banality
from the wet lips
of winsome kisses
like curses
into the cyclonic
of neglect

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