we were old, broke, hunched over, and freezing under the stars -
legs shaking, and coughing up blood when we tried to curse the heavens
and when those heavens filled with fireworks we cast our eyes down
looking for a place to fall and escape to our darker dreams.

we found noplace and slept standing on icy asphalt with bare feet -
eyes bloodshot behind the lids - our bodies,exhausted, went limp;
overcome with the dull ache for liquor or dope, and numb
and rigid as the relentless hail pounded against paper-thin skin.

wake up wake up and we stumble towards misery with
broken ribs barely protecting our cancerous lungs which
struggle to give breath to our desperate whispers and

oxygen to our writhing limbs - if you saw us then, consumed
with sickness, but heard our hearts still singing on fire, you would
would forever sneer at those who have said "love is not enough"

Moi, j'avais jamais rien dit. Rien

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