try to write a face the eyes aren’t
right teeth crooked the wrong way the
night cold the flame hidden I make
another cut so long but too
late across the blue ink sounds of
[inaudible] but leave it there
even if it barks all night will
never invade the earnestness
of tiny drinks while the bright black
so tight we thought the stones in our pockets
might help us too with a few tweaks
it could be the scene of your first triumph
but let’s not crack the old door anymore
those dreams are grand but I wake a headache
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