Intermezzo

Empty trees, empty branches poking the sky
in a prayer
Asphalt, more asphalt
snakes of asphalt
swirling their dust in my lungs
death in bearable portions
sweet poisons, bitter poisons
inhaled with enthusiasm
as death slowly becomes a reward
a prize of some kind
The empty trees
remain erect
waiting to hang my hope
in their hollow branches…

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