The Fallen
The bar is noisy
in a half-full way.
A smoky disbursement,
muted archipelago’s
of ersatz companionship.
I am adrift
you are isolated
by a cowed sadness -
fair game.
I need to tell you
I am not him,
only a disposable shadow of him,
yet I am available
in a room somewhere,
a rented space
to practice a disgrace.
We could both be company
for this longing,
both temporarily plugged in,
but not into each other.
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