The faint lines on my palm

Whirl in the slow dance of the moon


I was going to become a man

Dark was going to turn grey

Life was to be yellow lit

But mists encroached the yellow ball

Then came the silent thrill of aloneness

Locked in the rhythm of pumps- “gbi-gi-gbi-gi”

The last drop of my grits fell- “kaun”

Is that me or the scary silhouette beside me?

I am lost, right where I am finding myself


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