three
peculiarly close
never a morning, noon arising
a ritual retreat to a coffeehouse
thin wooden table
think
art and causes and eachother
all their drugs eating all their money all their money eating all their all their drugs eating the drugs, the money
tune, prance, dance
their bodies
risky and risks and risking
but they felt so alive
you’ll see them
dripping
as smoke wraps around their lungs
on the corner, on the stoop.
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