I inhabit other’s
lives:
sea vista
empty room
lies travelling.
I turn in alleyway
ever glance behind
to road I didn’t
take.
The dead call out
to me
ask for flesh
on their story
eyes that lived
& loved,
need more than
half heard memory.
I dwell in other’s
minds,
while my own
floats free
like ignoble
hover bee
strictly
seasonal.
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