225 days
under grass
and you know more than I.
they have long
taken your blood,
you are a dry stick in a basket.
is this how it works?
in this room the hours of love still make shadows.
when you left
you took almost everything.
I kneel in the nights
before tigers that will not let me be.
what you were
will not happen again.
the tigers have found me
and I do not care.
Charles Bukowski
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