overlapping shrouded streets
bone bright skeleton soul
spitting breath of moths
at crackling streetlights
crooked footprints crossing
shaded wet cement
among the plastered tents.
I miss the dancing and the beds
of local legends
dawn glazed by frayed delight
of deep disintegration
heart of deranged time touched
by the acid of such wild souls.
Rooftops under wreckage of the sun
are strewn with ruined beauties
the tarot of the damned
painted in the raw on hot brick walls.
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