I tried to find myself in
the darkness in which I swim,
A thick, inky brumaire

separating my face from the
bright-eyed Germans
across the carriage,

Gently carrying conversation
over rattles and whirs
with a simple and honest tongue

to which I am not party,
With my vain and vulgar expression,
Yet still I can hear with

falsely romantic ears,
My visage begs for admission
to no avail,

My tongue remaining locked
behind the jaws
which modestly smile.



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