Traveller at one time,
it licked at my heels and dove into the depth of the belly.

it told me of old gods, fires and tombstones, but left nothing but evil smells, bandages and ash.

old paths,
old courtesies,
old numbers.

important was I thought part of life,
others starting circles and prancing around, dressed in old gods.

it was my life, so I thought, dragging along the edges of the piers, watching the fishes drag themselves upon the shores with sunburns.

it was in something that played a rhapsody in your life, in something that was important in all our lives, still victories in a lonely outpost.

of my life.
what's it to you?
who go