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Stop the Clocks

The pendulum swings, I’m out on a brink, the fat lady sings, the midnight flight, the empty cup, wait.

Where am I? What plane is this, place is this, train is this, face is this? I can’t see, the finish line, the highway sign, the ticket line

Take me back, take me back to that other place, the one bedroom flat, the flooded veranda, where your cigarette butts still leave me with memories, the good ones, the laughing ones

The old man by the heater, The Chinese woman in the floral dress, The coffee shop

I’ve lost track of time, what day is it, month is it, year is it? Everything looks the same. Yet I’ve aged

Stop the clocks

Pause it for a day, I can’t find my way back to that other place. Who was that girl who sat here so alone? Where did she run off to? Is she alive?

A moment please, I can’t remember my order, was it hot or iced, single or double, Columbian or Guatemalan

No I think she died. But not here. No she died in that other place.

A double shot flat white to go – No sugar, no flattery. Just the bitterness as I dwell on that past life. The one where she…

The one where I am her. Take me back to that life

IMG_20170816_075901_444Location: Cape Town, South Africa

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