the closer i get
the more wrought with jealousy i become
it is as though
no matter
how much
or how far
i am still filling up
his footsteps
and looking at the space
left still
i am shadowed by a man
much greater then i
and his eyes
though long closed
burn holes in my back
his breathe remains in my conscience
and his words
are harder still to dissolve on my tongue
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