2056.

How odd it is, the
atrocities called up
by the greater good.

2055.

A fragility
in progress. Woman inverts
to child. Floundering.

2054.

The damages we
must keep tethered by the need
to ply memory.

2053.

If only the past
kept a queue to the present.
May lend difference.

2052.

A belated sense
of grace found in this steady
heart's play on moodswings.

2051.

A will to have my
choice both retained and taken.
Nonsense solutions.

2050.

I long for you more
than your reality could
ever live up to.