I have walked in deep, dark places,
and crawled through darker, still --
gas-lit slums long after the dusk,
where lamplight failed to spill.
So surprised by fleeting faces
that faded in and out --
like visions from the sleep-drift, they
never loiter about.
They come, they see, and then they pass --
these alien observers.
They pass with just a fleeting glance,
like someone else's server.
They care not what you think you need,
or who you think you are.
You're just an automaton shopper
within the grand bazaar.
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deep. 😉
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thanks
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