Shallow moonlight streams strangle afoot the crunch of gravel bone low
the row, beast, beat by the time triangles weave blue crisp affinity
splintered nerve endings of autumn placate the leathery sky
the lie, what of cold cotton cereal when you find froth with tea
Umbrella pops yellow raindrops in my ear in a wash of dry bristles
fills the story of your life in a page, the rage, you need flames on the side
You hide, sincerely it seems afternoon cries not spear nor fight
the light in your room burns but my eyes alight a window nearby
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