LXVII: nothing

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through all these days and years
accompanied by love and hate
by the intricate spinning of the compass needle
which always points to places i wanna go with you—
i know nothing
not even a sole thing about you.

i befriend the limitless void
uncapable of slumber, always slungs under my shoulders—
nothing rests atop of my head
except diamonds in my body i must shed.

March 05, 2023 (4:10pm)
von, nothing

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