As a friend
Within the inner chambers of ones being
Simple truths reveal themselves
Like breadcrumbs waiting
To be brushed away after guests leave
So, pull up a chair
Sit at the memory table
In old pyjamas
and flimsy cami's
like bare skin
Till truth joins
a welcome but unexpected guest
Baring its soul
Bearing its weight
Sparing no one
Least of all its host
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