For a while, with the vertigo cured, we were alive -- we were pure.
The void took the shape of all that you were, but years take their toll,
and things get bent into shape...
Antiseptic and tired, I can't remember your face.
Return.
You were supposed to grow old. Reckless, unfrightened, and old,
you were supposed to grow old.
Return. You were supposed to return.
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