I lay on my back under the metal winding
down staircase.
Admire people's faces,
and at the same time
feeling like the ground is swallowing me up.
I dream of cushions beneath me, as I could be happy to
look up at people alive, descending.
Besides the ground wants to swallow me up.
Pretty footfall, and clinging
and clanging.
Conscious of my hair touching my face and the cobbles;
where the ground is swallowing me up.
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