decommissioned roads

when you finally left,
my hot swollen feet stopped
walking merciless circles
through those old night highways,
horizonless but for the dawning
notion that
sparkling up, somewhere –
a gentle tide of relief

a graceful pool
untouched by the oxygen of regret;
whispers of stagnation not yet breathing it all in;
for now, a ravine flowing & fresh –
one toe, an ankle, sliding into the coolness of hope

the contamination begins

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