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Smells like
diesel
Tastes like
fire
Exit
burning
Kindled  
liars

First step
taken
Through the
flames
Ghosts left
melting
Tracks
— of pain

(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)
I too will go to you, says the son
to the face of the father.

He broadens his smile
thin and gathering dust for long
as if to acknowledge
he always knew
one day his son would stand before him
resigned and weary
willing to join on his route.

The son sees his father's lips
move in the briefest prayer..

Welcome.
He left at 67.

No one knew
he caught the first light
through the window glass

smelled dew when autumn came
was joyous at the trills of birds
caught all the blue in his eyes
and smiled the sky was his.

No one knows
if it was too early to go.

He knew
he was briefly happy.
Maybe Dracula

was a phlebotomist.

In which case,

he was only doing his job,

and pretty well, at that!
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