Nowhere – Ally Ameel

i had only ever been there for holidays and death


it was a land of oil and stale dreams

those giant money making machines

pumping black stuff for flying machines

and to make cars go faster

up and down


even when i left for a long time


when i came back

it was up and down


the little house sat on a little street

it was turning into an old lady

with the perfume

and the anecdotes ringing through the air with the smell of age

red lipstick smeared memories of homemade pancakes

while light streamed through the windows upstairs


lots of tears and some smiles

until it was empty

they had left

the holidays were over


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