Of Muses And Other Ghosts
I'm having trouble,
finding you, your lips.
This city holds,
no recollection of you.
The streets bind people together,
tangling their hands, in a hurry
in harmless handshakes, or frightful hugs,
but it's never gonna be you and me.
I'm too afraid
to tread on on your chest, to look for you
under the cross
they've nailed your name unto.
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