The Moya View
I wander through this secret citymapped in the words we only know,and we can only define.I am the citizen of you and you of me. Everyone we know drives bye,their cars filled with everything we ownflying out the window.The next vanishes into the mistbeyond the curb of what we once were.Or, is it, will be?Where they went,we know.Where they’re going,we know.Our eyes and ears want to follow,it’s so bright and loudand hard to hold inside, even in all the shooting.
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JONATHAN MOYA
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