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Garrett Johnson Oct 2019
I’m gone.

Cured in an alley.
Forgotten by the walls.
Greeted by neon hands.
Seared into the corners.
The ash dances like whirlwinds.
Meeting every beat to an azure strum.
And a calm kiss under the clear night.



Garrett Johnson.
Wear a sweater and you’ll be ok.

— The End —