Monday, February 18, 2019

Let dawns be what they will
in our crooked kingdom
and salt overcome the sea
for this shining morsel
poisoned with gloss
sprayed moss on glade
overcoming error
covered stairwells singing
the evaporated houses
where you and I stood and smoked
once together
outside the vague night-tousled
laundry station
numbers pushing to the untouched dark
what names could not have been
so many disintegrating mercenaries
blurred voices out to dismayed oceans
sickening voices yearning
for a quick and clean regret
a long row of seats
on the settling tar.

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