Rain pooled. Steam is rising
from the cold cement.
I feel my soul go out from me,
I don't know where it went.
I feel it, like the mist that rises
'round me in the street;
Ascending in the opposite
direction from my feet.
I half suspect that since it's left
it's me that drove it out.
I live in fear
of being here
within myself;
without.
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