One of my faces on each
Each with a small light inside it
Burning from eyes and mouth
A candelabrum of memory
That transforms into the modern version of me
A hydra of time
That finds a moment of presence inside me
where every head carries its own era
It's own haunting surreal landscape and voice
One might know the Fen mud
another a dockside in Limehouse
A field growing somewhere in imagination
Lights are experiences burning inside it
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