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  • Seneca Basoalto

Without Shape

lost in my slow pragmatic ballet

lost a night room of prism and asters

lost assembled my curse without shape

lost somewhere in the burnt bark

lost the second I forgot who you were

lost the silence of a secret a sapling a wellspring

lost glistening, gardening, gandering

lost between the walls where old men fight for love

lost from the bough to the belief

lost and admitting it makes no difference

lost the second heartbeat after I said your name

lost come six plus ten, eleven and thirty

lost until unlocked unopened a birthday rust

lost familiarity in the bloodline, the bounce house

lost keys for the east coast houses

lost wallet with my virginities name, and its email address

lost A S I F losing were a puddle a dream

lost on a road you've only been down once

lost an impressive motivation I was told I once had

lost since breathing and knowing I was raised in abstract

lost and in laze, dancing to the same song on repeat

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