Expiration Date
( Photography by Iam Hogir - found here ) Each day, You call me to die And I imagine a slow fade, with some final, quiet exhalation in some distant room but maybe also I need to die differently Each day like my ballpoint pen with inky abundance in death The last light of the western sun illuminating radiant falling leaves Or a child on the verge of a meltdown running around the room Or a Bilbo Baggins eleventy-oneth birthday Trusting that all that is left behind is so much less than what lies ahead ~Douglas Wyatt Anderson
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