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Dance of Minions

Window dressings pasted tightly
moisture frames their presence 
barely lit by cigarettes passing
outside in while I sit watching
the random dance of minions 
scattered strains of sound
music plays somewhere, I can’t.... head longs for sleep now, 
childlike, fevered presence roars
cool hands wipe away fear
alone with myself only lonely
I don’t feel well...scattered 
causal thoughts shrug across 
my addled brain.  I am always alone.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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