Back here, and now.
The Norman belfry in the town centre and I stare each other in the eye, just like at the end/beginning of each day since I moved to these quarters.
You've never been here. You're everywhere.
The motorway hums and I can see all those trains, borne by their bridges over the valley.
Born and swallowed yet again by tunnels.
Despondent, bereft of you.
(Yes, damn it! You)
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