and on these pages are
someone else's words - not
mine unpublished and
probably - but here
in this open air bar
by the Kelvin
there is only me
and my silent
soliloquy of pain and
broken bones that
will not bear my weight, a
heart that will not
patch itself to
good effect and
a future prospect
that appalls if the
wounds do not heal
and my machinery
stalls. Alone again
is my burden and I
call for a face
to be here but none
come: none are aware.
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