No Sugar

Morning runs and morning goes

To shine on the asphalt dreams

Lambent strokes unfelt

Like an inconsequence;

Pavements heat to crystal shine

And reflections flutter to

Lyrical fancy –

The streets come alive;

Noontime to dusk

And the sweat only leaves

Its salty trails and sticky dews

Making way to another night,

And here I sit and wonder

Why under my skin

No pulse can be felt.

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About kyogakura
Bored 95% of the time.

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