and it's churches closed on mondays
A city of absentees and crazies where cars spit out silence
I long for a home that doesn't exist
A memory transfigured and magnified
I long for people traced along the lines of others, people in technicolor,
amplified by memory and wishful thinking
Aren't they always?
Tall geometric shapes in providence
Playthings for giants
Lifeless and silent.
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