So much we learn in the shadows / primarily the cold, damp, alleys / we split ourselves into / each year that regurgitates us / with no sympathy, or regret / in a far corner of: you / where we can’t reach / a shaky finger that never connects / made to dance by desperation / and then scolded by the mind / right here / we could be honest with ourselves / we could purge our insecurities / from the body, a body / your body, that you threw away years ago / in the hotness of our throats, laced with bile, where the truth grows / is the chunky torchlight that brings us home / zooming in on those nights where the alley floor was your mirror, and you lay placidly, peacefully / like twins in the womb / you slept there, fridge-like floor, pressed together so tight / life could not escape / neither could you / and you loved yourself, but not enough (then), to untangle the hate that grew

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