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Log In
"there's
one on every street corner."
in every late-night diner, & cold
bus station.
we walk alone, but our numbers are legion.
names & wishes taken by the wind, useless as garbage.
we sacrifice
the shepherd's hand in the beds of the damned.
tears are kept
in orange plastic. broken wings, left on dusty roads.
when we
approach, doors are locked. sacred hearts do not know us.
jotting
emptiness in a tattered notebook, with stolen pens.
the tunnel is
infinite. there is no light.
the fires of hell have scorched
the earth.
such is our fate. and such is our destiny.
the mournful offices of whores & drifters.