is what I said to alana
who was not there when I
said it once again
while intrigued by the silence
of copper light against back-alley
foliage; how it ignites
the head-fire of my hangover
in the thick of the night
stars appear above the urban
landscape to admire
the slur of my tongue
trying to wrap itself around
some new declaration
of love for clouds and jazz
but the world has too few words
and so do i
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