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Lexi… Lexi Zappelli. Nobody in the world can describe how much you mean to me. Nothing in the world could describe it. There’s been so many struggles, through this life of ours- so many shortcomings. I have hurt you, you have
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irony hides between bands of shale,
buried to deep-
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quake beneath my feet
thunder in the sky
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green sinks into the skin of the earth.
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I remember when I was one of those mindless people, wandering the streets like a shadow. A zombie, looking for my next fix. A puma on the kill, prayless.
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ever have a feeling, when you're walking around there's no velvet bullet, no nickle on the ground
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wreckless girl... coulda solved
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i lick my lips, the taste of rain on them- your lips shiver from the taste of pain on them
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as sunblossoms refract through the seasonal rain,
a revolutional spell booms the words of release-
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i licked her mafic lower lip, the grudge of death
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riding on the back of a corn-snake over green sea-grass and wind waves
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rushing past peace signs the gunners bullet slurs, history repeats and sickness dances dizzy
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"give my gun away when it's loaded."
credit, damien rice
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once a burning man, fire in his veins-
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and lingering autumnal took hold, golden red
till cleaving frost of winter-
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pride swept, the gorges tremble
beneath the rapid rush of water
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callus fingertips erode a broken fretboard, flickering like wingbeats from chord to branch, in synchronized beat with anothers foot-steps,
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gravity of lips, sticky fingertips, and lust; accension in three profound dimmensions, innocence painting pictures of cotton-candy clarity, drawing you into me- delicious caramel skined wonders melting beneath the sunshine wa
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my callus fingertips remind you of basalt
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tidal pools fill with gravity, ivory moon tides rust
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shaken, beating hearts they hope you have remorse
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synth voice screeching cross worn fretboards,
creation of dark-mater;
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architecture blooms
in grey-scale corridors
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misting earths
luminous spine,
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phantom premonitions
grind the jowls
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slave labor and semi-independence.
the semi-toxic filth of
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windbreaker iris set vines on fire
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windbreaker iris set vines on fire
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"love is rich with both honey and venom" as prompt.
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Sepia fingertips urgently attempt
to capture rustled wing beats from
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My juniper iris was long ago, impaled by forest thick dreams. And you, with your silted history, have set me into
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