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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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