somewhere winter falls on 22nd street
where only lost souls walk at night
carrying dreams in their pockets
trying to keep warm
as tears freeze to ice
and everyone seems
a little bit extra more than what they appear to be
smoke whiffed past my cold yellowed
fingers
as i trudged across the pavement plain
seeking an absolution a turning a returning a refrain
anything to ease the pain
as rye scorches the earth
flesh turned stone
flesh turned cold
by the closing of the door.
footsteps echo down the carpeted hallway
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