Gates, a poem by Eoghan Lyng at
Bruno Martins



written by: Eoghan Lyng



We walked by Lancaster Gates,
Your hair glistening to the summer sun,
And I wondered to myself: “Is it me who has
Plunged to the bottom of the ocean,
And is it time to swim on?”
Lighting pipes by the dozen,
We smoked out our feelings,
Meaning we had none more to make.
I take no pride in recoiling mounting the
distance from the Lancaster Gates home.

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