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New Orleans
by Winter Kills

The same dream, same scream,
and me unaware of anything.
Never noticed the rising sun,
the light, the heat, the burning sting.
They warned me and now they mourn me.
I’m never coming back.
The wind pushes the ashes down the street,
into sidewalk cracks.

A precious moment, fragile, shattered,
buried deep in memory.
The killer being stalked, St. Charles, New Orleans.
I bled him till be still his heart,
a corpse he lay against me.
Garden District, six a.m.
For all his world to see.

By moon or candlelight to New Orleans.
Under forever sky to New Orleans.
By moon or candlelight,
under forever night.
Where youth never dies,
in New Orleans.

French Quarter, Jackson Square,
I caught the scent of long black hair.
I turned my head, focused my stare.
Somewhere tonight, she is there.
Two dozen hearts beating out loud.
As the fog crawls in like a wounded cloud.
I make my way through the drunken crowd.
My footsteps splashing against the ground.

By moon or candlelight to New Orleans.
Under forever sky to New Orleans.
By moon or candlelight,
under forever night.
Where youth never dies,
in New Orleans.

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