the otherworld

the otherworld, where once we lived,
is cold and without populace:
i wandered back there for a time,
recalling how exogamous
our union really was

the otherworld? it’s empty now.
like strip malls in the part of town
that no one goes to anymore.
it sits there, slowly breaking down
the way a union
does

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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