that old wretched train

wretched train suddenly leads me
to a city with no longer you
wrecked again, suddenly thirsty
of a shadow colored deep blue

wicked memory it pays a visit
the moments gone, the wound stays
wasted effort, down on my feet
dust and the wind wash my face

Another poem: 00.20 AM
Another poem: The Nine Kisses
Some prose: A Conversation with The Gatekeeper

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