street,
the glow of gas lamps along
the way,
painting
yellow on the panes.
the moonless
night,
the shuttered homes,
darkened
until morning
with lovers
fast asleep.
is it my empty hand
swinging
at my side
as i take the long way
home?
my thirst not quenched
despite
the drink.
is this the ship i'm on,
sailing perpetually,
with no land
in sight?
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