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  • Thomas Kam


after the rains came,

& there was no me and you

your face became a perfect guess

which once I only knew,

& other skin became

a haunting thing, & every dream

an echo in the hollow light

of what it might have been

& every dream a ghost, a broken

vow, a passing widow

& sleep brings no relief

I am a conscript for tomorrow

& now you call me conqueror

where once you called me kind

you made a claim upon

the hidden places of my mind

& distance is my enemy,

who once I longed to know

I’m freer than the wind that flees

& almost as alone

& now the space between us

that I borrowed for my freedom

is knocking at the window

demanding that I pay them


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