Now to come back to the place where I

by ruddyruminations

Now to come back to the place where I began…

To realize I had written one thousand verbs in pursuit of ghosts. Those days when the perfume of nostalgia was constantly ripe in the recesses of my mind. When I sang accolades of my soft heart. That open, pulsating entity I feared so greatly. But the feeling is ebbing, receding and what is left? What is left. is. chiseled. 

For no man sails back towards the setting sun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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