[from: the Loss Lieder]
color
me as in leaden platinum pretty soon
they the
i
hear voices in my head will speak like a laff amputated above the
slow
hiding form introspect now, the lack they
insist
it’s
a verb a barn burning for the whole family of related
usages on an island off the wrong shore in a sequence
off
the rung peninsula nearby,
an
odd flame like a clicking
introduce that gap
and
pretty soon they’re naming a store after it
being
here’s the same as unrealized
is
absence is contained in money or the
screen canopy
that
keeps flopping over
it
says you have to be hidden behind closed
dares w all the numbers counting our things mmm
sold
like
for missiles or plot summaries on that far
side
of a glass globe
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