We’ll always be picking up the pieces
Caught wading through the wreckage
Violent colours, scattered thought
A train run off the tracks under a starlit sky
And someone’s child taken into the night
You smoke on the rubble, I dig deep. Ask –
Is there a way to eviscerate the body of its memory?
The nagging, clawing, teeth and bones in you
Something creeping silent beneath the surface
which has no name, but which suffuses your dreams
Where you run from your pursuer, numb
Over fire, the rails, the space only you know


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