words sometimes leak through cracks on walls,
through the paint, peeled after years of water beneath the white.
men talking, talking, talking, until all i can hear are the sounds of my own footsteps
down the hall,
and maybe the wind through the open windows.
i look left then right while walking, peeking through windows
on those silver metallic doors with no handles,
the air is moist, i almost cannot breathe.
the last door on the left of the hallway was not empty when i looked inside,
two men standing naked, with ties and top hats, and in front of them an unclothed girl sits.
i let out a gasp and they all turn to look at me,
the men had no faces
and the girl's mouth was stapled shut.
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