Day 24

I sat on the kitchen floor listening to a song.

The same one that plays now.


I crash land every year in memory.

I am stuck on that island for ever.

For all time.

There is a Victor freed.

A fortnight with naught a worry.

Yes, there was beer.

Yes, there was sex.

Yes, there was ugliness.

Yet, there was I.

I found myself.

The first time I breathed,

And I exhaled all negativity.

There may be a castle in the other city.

There may have the lilt in the North.

There may be stones elsewhere.

You have me.

From the border with Paisley,

To the Necropolis,

It is my everything.

The one time I tasted the elusive


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