I sent myself out
ahead of myself
to the darkness
at the end of the street
where the wailing comes
on the wind some nights
and I sit and listen and…
sometimes I wail along
cuz the forlorn live lives
that make me sweat sadness
like I’m in a sauna
like I’m cleansing the black
from inside
then I wander home
wondering if it’s my voice
I hear that draws me out

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