a sheet
can seem like the north pole
when you climb to it over
somebody else’s will
and a fuck like snow
it’s a sad trip to discover
love can be a bummer
drowning or drifting
nowhere to go
sometimes an accident
and sometimes
edge city on two different plans
walking down a strange street
holding my intent
like a ticket
left alone again if only
I could get to like it
world like a seamstress
sews me up in memories
drowning or drifting
a sailor between bars
the noise is never-ending
like spending
I sometimes think this travelling
is just another shoreline
in someone else’s arms
all the plays are plays of passion
hello sailor
come again
I do not have a proper welcome
a paper napkin
will do instead
someone says
mirage mirage
and calls a meeting
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