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Sep 2012
the restless words you left
and the disembodied lives.

they strain to find sunlight.
and jointed alibis.

everyone keeps searching for your excuse,
but without finding, they fall.

in comforting arbitration
and juxtaposing facts.

for instance, you'd said you'd always be there,
but you were never there at all.
James Nigh
Written by
James Nigh  where air is never clean
(where air is never clean)   
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