The Dwindling, In All Unlikeliness
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I'm making peace with the dwindling There is an understanding between the will to and the will not to, in the room that opens into, closes out of but I can't make sense of the gross weight of all the marks of moments that sit, many-faced like eastern godesses on phonograms, in books all around me and my urge for going, up and down my sky and soil, littering my silence like the empty beer cans of a death wish behind a car carrying the ”just married” sign Insects are stinging my naked body when I'm changing into bike clothes under the Hat Mountain; the laughing woman beating me with a birch twig to fend the swarm of horseflies off, in all unlikeliness © Ingvar Loco Nordin 2023
Thoughtful and wonderful poem.
You can certainly see your writing skills in your work. All the time go after your heart.
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