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Awake; in the house of my heart The window of translucent glass transpires A channel of creating an image— of you.
Brush; your thumbs are feathers on paper Against the pulse of my temple pricking As I blind my irises and a tremor of The initiation of a hunger strike passes.
Your eyelashes sweep a glorious train On the swells of your cheekbones, On the crimson floor of flushed thoughts Of my telepathic sonic sound and breaking glass, And a cloak of emotion makes us immortal.
Supernatural, sweet satirical maze in plain Sights of the roots that dip swaying trees In massive storms, is a pint of snack. Your nose is the path to breathing The purest air from the age of nature, I'm cuffed with wolfs bane silver To the strings your mind guides: mechanically.
My pulse gallops in stallion strengths Over the steel stands full of predicting Spectators, and settles suddenly like A beat drop in a popular song but way off The musical riffs and a running heartbeat. Your awaken stature forms tributaries To flood over my river which flows to you.
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