Closer than I’ve ever been to fleeing with the ghosts, submitting to the slow withdraw of words in verses riding breaths before they come to naught.

Farther than I thought from tenanting some sense of permanence between the moment I exhale and when the wind discredits what I’ve said and mocks what little points I make by silencing my voice the very instant that I speak.

Prostrate in the shadows of an edifice decaying slowly as the flash of sunset just before collapsing. Blink and vanish with another century, speaking lines because I grasp at the illusion of their soundness hearing nothing when I finish but a whisper in the clouds beyond the leaning spire.

#london #UK

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