An Oil In A Frame

Tired of the thoughts of ones

Loathing and regret

Regretting the consumed and

At least not forget

Every single intake

Eagle takes flight

Circulating the sky

The black bird on the wire

You stand in the doorway

An oil in a frame you glow

Tactile but miles away

Ink dipped text

Side view

In line

Fronting all of you


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