Outside is the traffic

I need
a camera that says DSLR
and a complex inner war

to place carefully
between my breathing space
and your face

just so that
I can erase
every trace
of this pain
with a straight face,

just so that
my heart can bleed
into the streams
of our
social networking feeds.

Outside
is a stampede.

Inside is a poem
sprouting from my need,
enigmatic.

Outside
is the traffic.

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One thought on “Outside is the traffic

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