Buildings crumbling from the blast
and I'm staring at you.
Stones and bones a thousand years old
and I'm staring at you.

The tapestry, the tombs,
frescoes, catacombs,
and you, blonde and blue.

The hair falling over you,
hiding your balding,
and in the corner of your mouth
a sore slow to healing.
I've never been so captivated,
simply enervated,
by your simple staring.

(never mind it's to the camera. not to me.)

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