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The Fetid Question
When I walk alone, I find my pace increasing -
like fleeing from an adversary as of yet unseen.
While becoming leaner, cruel in my demeanor,
I'll cast these storied glances at the passersby who mean
no benign intention that I have come to know,
no promise of eternity through one intrinsic spark;
just a fetid question that's broadening alone:
"What could both of our flames combined do with all of this dark?"
