War of Attrition

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War of Attrition

We have fought a war of attrition

And I will make this single admission

Your troubles were doubled by my return

For I have been reborn

And rebirth is agony

Crossing points at porous borders

At three fifteen.  Dark mornings

In winter

Every year we pursue this path

We drink coffee out of paper cups

In the station cafe

We board the train

We were wanderlusts

Their eyes were watching us

Some demon descends

The North wind steers me off my course

I force myself through the fetid, heavy air

We were duped

A diplomatic crisis ensues

The natives flee from me

For I am the one with the extra eye

Merciless and ruthless is my inner eye

I have been cursed

With  a flawless memory

And in the market

We trade in a sparrow

For a swan

Then we decorate dead birds

And dance around them

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