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Walking in a dark alley,
Pretending not to care;
See something that
Converses with my subconscious.

It talks to a part of me;
A part I had taken years to burry.
So I slap that part away
And try to move on.

That part of me is insistent,
Keeps coming.
To afford more emphasis.

It’s a young man;
Probably in his twenties as me.
Have to be generous with numbers,
Because his demeanor says more.

I give in to the Uba of old,
A sticky mask I decided against.
I stop to look at the stranger;
He rattles a coin in a bowl.

That prompts old memories,
Of desperation and disparity.
I look up to the heavens,
To see if they set me up for this.

I see thick darkness
And a few generous stars.
I am reminded about why
I am agnostic.

He rattles his bowl again.
I am directed to his
Hopelessly folded legs,
Nature’s mistake.

Suddenly memories of old
Overwhelm me like a flood.
I shed a tear for the first time in years,
And thank the stranger.

I realise he is in my place.
He is begging so that
I don’t have to.
He is the me I took years to burry.

He smiles at me;
Thanks me for letting him live,
Albeit briefly.
He then slides into my blind spot.

I reset my memory,
Then curve out a smile.
Enter back into a universe
I have taken years to build.