sea salt and starlings

how do I move on from a place that is still part of me?
the path of my veins emulate the streets I walked,
blood flowing like the Limmat.
my heart beats the rhythm of the train tracks
and as my tears flow down and reflect the light of my lamp
i will mourn a time where they used to catch the sun peeking over the alps.
the barking across the street is not one I know,
as unfamiliar as the smell of sea salt and the sound of Starlings.

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