An irresistible urge to steal fishing lures
Gold dagger lost in the city streets
Signs pointing every which way
My cold hands warm to the touch of
running feet
Ensnared by loss I skip across the
surface of a frozen lake
The mind’s thin ice a petrified sheet
Unsure whether to dip into the sky
or leap into its icy depths
This eternal procrastination
Waiting for you to call and touch
your gentle lips upon my cheek
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