Common

I sit beneath the clouds,

and take it all in,

take the fall in,

the one from grace,

to this new place.

 

A new territory,

under my authority,

I’m free up here,

that much is clear,

I can see my house from here.

 

The sun etches it’s UV print,

upon my alabaster face,

the air up here is thinner,

which gives it a different taste.

 

Maybe I’ll set up shop here,

Pitch myself a tent,

Maybe I’ll just move here,

I wonder, “How much is the rent”?

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