Steel City

Fog sits on rusted windowsills

taking respite from the bustling city surrounding

laced boots pace the streets
contemplations of grime and grins
chipped paint smiles

crackled grey skies
peppered with ash and light

lanterns floating
orbs glowing
beacons to sink stars

I find myself hollowed out,

clinging to the pulleys and window frames.

happiness falls like tresses of hair on a cheek



steam and coffee grounds

bitterness and mist are swaddling me like a familiar blanket

monotone comfort

this rusted steel city

my home.  

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