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Searching for Love with a Blade in his Hand

Updated on February 1, 2013

Cruising streets in incense-dreams,

the buildings glowing like

blood on black tar,

he searches for love.

He floats past suits

and uniforms hard to

read as Sanskrit. Then

he sees her, one

foot inching up the

wall. “Lonely?” he asks.

“Are you available?” “I

can be.” They walk

to her room. He

twists the blade in

his pocket, dreaming of

unkind cuts and redemption.


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