where spirits paint in smoke
fizzing with green ink
the chains of space are tied with pleasure knots
and echoed pains of unknown histories
forever in the rapture of their deaths
skin and flash to decorate the trade winds
steaming wheels of steel that never cared
gears run on captured blood that won't cry out
all the knowledge of distorted names
the descendants of a motionless game
hairy valley where the cleansers shave.
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