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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #1001469
she's quite a thrill
pieces of Caroline sewn into your backyard
thread, my dear, and cripple me
blue diamonds she wore in space
well this surely can not hurt
no one knows oak emotion
grow, overgrow
there's nothing left
and only Birch knows her skin's story
like the Bible of anarchy
come and undone a fragile plaiting
deep the soil flower white bud, darling
if you just hold out and
they never care...
then to waste a building on a brass frame
and i don't care
no one ever...
play her a song
the Christ of language
paper thin, the digital beat
"oh to be your flesh of angel"
i'll carve a star beneath your number
pieces of broken heart sewn in your underground
bled solely to understand
why the world can't mix
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