You made me think
Of rogues who steal the impoverished.
You made me steal a portrait –
A flourish really, of a squirt of black paint swirling across the paper.
Footloose Breaking boundaries Daring the night
Watched by a white speckled owl perched on a high branch.
For you, it was a lantern luminous against black trees.
For the him, her, the them
All those you left behind, the hooting was gossip.
You ran away each night for the embrace of a fearful metropolis of sirens and flashing lights,
Rattling rails and hallucinates of long-shifts-overtime-underpaid work.
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