I By Midnight

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If I die this night,
This is still my shrine.
I’ve wished him willing,
In giving in,
Dripping with sin
While bright light shines.
Midnight stills.
In wishing I’ll find him mine,
I smile.
Rising,
While inside I’m shrinking,
Missing him.
Killing time.
This night.
Insipid instincts find him still,
Inked in instilled thinking,
While wishes diminish
Like white wine in dimming shine.
In time, I’ll pine.
I’ll smile.
Find life fine.
Still.
Instinct wills it
Midnight time.
Finding him willing,
Wishing him mine.

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