Senses

by Christos Polydorou

It has been so long since someone has held me in their arms with love. Perhaps this is why I sometimes feel uneasy in my shoes, like they don’t even belong on my own feet. Should I be looking? I am so lonely I can no longer cry about it, sat in set sadness, like poets do, writing. Watching my life make sense makes sense so I keep dancing and creating.

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