Something Here

There is something
here

It whisps out from
there
between the lips of
sin

There is something
here

A quiet, sterile
painted gray brick 
in the way but
it weighs less than paper

There is something 
here


It's the familiar whispers 
on the bare floorboards
as he walks so silent so

purpose driven 
for the fourth time this week

There is something
here

And it wants to disappear.

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