They had come for the morphology
Of an old-new city down to its heart
For the light intensity and ground temperature
For the bass of urban noise and art
The attic rooms that I had chosen,
Their pictures aspiring to a hotel
Had pleased in price only to disappoint
Age gathering on sills
But I leave them to their complaints
On the other side of these thin walls
Mixed with debate as to where to dine
While I listened for your footfalls
They had come for the engineering
Of life and speed intertwined
But I came hoping to see your ghost
And sit together like old times
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