in a light red fog
eyes visiting a geyser
vines tangling with roots
the bright haircuts of the fallen
dancing in a ditch of glamour
bridges of a cemetery stone
river's laughing moss hallways
a wheel stabbed for steering
and a moonlit number
dirt packed in tar
leaves flowing over
and a mirror that will spray
crime's eclectic future
soothing in curves that tug
a plank of fertile boards
feline sleep on the target breathing
a grain of dirty snow
and the nose plowed air
web circling the sun
nibbling the tapped ashes
steel fist in a moldy glove
the purring obstacle
up high on a tower of chairs.
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