unconscious

break before bending
devoured by the hunt
this city sleeps, we just miss it
caught inside the tolerable life
we become reflections staring back at ourselves
in store windows – in puddles
the night knows this story
throwing the lady out with the tap water
all set in plaid, you’re good enough
there’s a part of me that only reacts
the night knows this story
not like it makes a difference
(this is me today, but it won’t be me tomorrow)

M.

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