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In demure fields of chartreuse, Leather kissed heels balance
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Is there beauty in the rocky shoreline?
Every sullen grey rock polished
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In the hush of serenity in silence, The crackling lightning licks
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In teal incandescence the moon gazes Over the still waters;
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Feet dangle from the ledge. Heels - they bounce from the swell
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I tried to sweep you up into
A butterfly net;
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The sunlight paused to revere Ivory skin through silken slits.
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Chimney smoke adrift over asparagus skies, A fixed point of azure light slips through,
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In Hyperion swirls Over rich rooted grass,
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One forgets that we are
One.
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Your breath washes over The perfidious shore.
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The arrogant brick walls of the city Seem so far gone now; blending
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A cloud blooms; From heaven to earth,
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Your influence is as vast As the starry ocean -
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"I'm here again,
I don't belong here."
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A few more sheets to the wind.
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Perched in bible black, The scavenging crow is more dignified
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I blossomed; Convinced I wouldn't
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Thrice before you were a seething storm Lapelled upon the calm and tedious seas.
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Vermillion souls seek the sky And imprint the water.
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The languid moon lays azure
Over charcoal reams of your hair.
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To mourn my solitude, drip vacant tears
Over patches of skin - dark as bruised plums.
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This is the vision of the world in our heads.
Instead of living it, We'll change the vision.
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Bending around forlorn mountains,
Palely braided with mock-winter,
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Tempting and desolate, the brittle branches
Grow into the cold sludge painted waters.
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-- An artwork charcoaled yet not colored
That the moth’s wing be stenciled and not dyed
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The yellow tinged grass yearns
For it's dewy headdress.
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Heavy with flakiness of make-up shadows,
That dull under pale light's reprise.
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I'm left dizzied by porcelain snowflakes
That whirl, settle and bury me again.
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As you placed your hands on top of them.
Pressed down on them and smoothed them.
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As I reach into that intangible cloud
You slip through my desperate fingers.
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Lethargic walls, echoing lonely steps,
Are deafened by the disturbance of sound.
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Making quiver the rosy tresses that
Are vexed in blue and rare indigo guise.
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Each story, written or spoken, has an ending.
Every breath dwindles and dies on damp lips.
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Bedight within' thy damnéd poison 'gain
From chastity's gait I shy and abstain.
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