Sunday 12/23/2018 11:50:00 PM

yellow clouds press the blue ones. it was gone again. that devious fever of euphoria and salt. we were weighted by touch. and now the knot had failed. time bit down hard. and our moment was over.

the wind labored. shuffling our ghosts. accepting our wagers. we were just on the verge of too young. tramping our stories. discarding our heavy compasses. content to wander.

the pavement hummed. the air was feverish. pleasure shook us. we threw our moments. stones that danced briefly over the surface.before disappearing below.

the wind paused. the cold sighed. the empty refrain of paper dolls. wearing the sun like lipstick. dancing on the pinheads of our hope.

we chased the horizon. stumbling over our the crumbling bridges of our own construction.

the con was long. we gathered our funerals and our nooses. and made our way toward the exit. we met the sum in pieces. skin and bone boasting equations it could not solve. epiphanies lingering. as the lights dimmed. on empty stages. and torn curtains.

measuring the dark in filament and friction. drowning in the chemistry of want.

flesh and long division draw the maps. but it's touch that shows us where we are.

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