Audit

The soft-lit street is gone
and the cold remains.

Broken memories fall
before the night’s tears.

Black sheets wave to
obscure the shaking stars.

The past reflects in
shards of a lonely bottle.

Desperate breaths gasp,
staining a thick air.

Streams of smoke stifle
shallow echoes as they sob.

Clouds above hang
in an endless sky.

The soft-lit street is gone.
Only the cold remains.

audit

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