At twilight I steal
into other people’s heads
look around for a while
sometimes they know me
know I’m there and can
remember me after
I leave like the dead
who are friendly and
relieved not to have to
hide the truth anymore
others who live among roots
molds and broken stones
who carry water all day
nameless and short-lived
churls trolls louts and oafs
who push the stems up into
the light they themselves
are forbidden to enter.
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