It's almost November,
I lied to myself
thinking I was better.

I went for a walk
to clear my head
of serpentine thoughts,
Turbulent, tempestuous and restless.

I miss her, my city/its tribes:
My love of all I can't
at once remember;
Sharp - Distance
as it were.

In the Heart of the Sunrise
I lost myself
to the memories of her,
A city, my tribe
and a lonesome road
home.