On the sidewalk an
Overturned stroller
Like the empty shell
Of a shedding insect
I turn towards what I see
Old traintracks buried in
Pavement still stick up
Like speed bumps
I turn towards what I see
When we are old what do we miss more than skin?
Sun damaged routine
All the songs just for me
You have been, and will sing again
But the moon is new
The moon shines in with pride
In its inconsistency
I see the sun everyday
The moon turns me away
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