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you may not believe it
but there are people
who go through life with
very little
friction or
distress.
they dress well, eat
well, sleep well.
they are contented with
their family
life.
they have moments of
grief
but all in all
they are undisturbed
and often feel
very good.
and when they die
it is an easy
death, usually in their
sleep.
you may not believe
it
but such people do
exist.
but I am not one of
them.
oh no, I am not one
of them,
I am not even near
to being
one of
them
but they are
there
and I am
here.
we smelled your scent
we signed a lengthy confession
we drew a composite
and picked you out of a lineup
yet still you walked away
scott free

...time we implicate you
a little bit more
There: just under the surface,
I can see your truth seeping through,
I can hear the agony shattering your voice,
I can feel the tremor in your body.
Like a torrent of ice, you freeze.
For a second.
For a moment.
You know the truth is laid bare.
Needles and thread used to bind, used to hide.
There: just under the surface- nothing.
"I'm restless, I think I'll go for a walk."

And so, you visited Ephesus,
on the ancient coast of Ionia,
browsing books in the Library of Celsus.

You wandered through
large ionic columns in Jerash,
the chariot marks of
the Oval Forum and Cardo
visible at your feet.

You then climbed Mount Alban
to the rise of its 2,200 terraces,
“Grand Plaza” shadowed from the sun,
where the ritualistic games
often meant death.

"How was your walk?"
I asked upon your return.

"Substantial," you said
falling back into bed.
"But not as tangible
as my life with you."
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