clumsily formed clay

he stood stone still
a statue
as night pissed darkness
across his face

i mistook him
at first
for a phylactery
of meaningless
discourse
a golem with nonsense
carved into his clay
unmoving form

the cats hissed
as they passed
but he showed no emotion

a tree
with dead roots
a father figure
in abandoned strokes
a transient
displaced from normalcy

windswept of feeling
topiary in convulsive
tremors
a pile of dead leaves
a maggot feasting
upon wet rot

stone still
a mausoleum
a cyst of concrete
jutting towards the sky

i mistook him
for a man
he mistook existing
for being alive

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