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Love Makes The Morning Dews

like an arrow shot straight poison once because i thought i could work around it


like an apple, I'm about it, that was the one with the worm in it wearing sunglasses


speaking magi drawn to acid it might have been coloured pencil but it was red ink


and the sugar cubes were football heads and the effects, it was a red pen, black


lightning, the white sky from the trees rehearsal for the video i forget the title of


e[p] he was the star lead before the sayer said he'd never speak again badly I just


the silence is heavy the incense was thick in the cave he was floating by i was getting


ur high and we sat in the circle of Death, it was just the two of us back then, me staring


at the tree through the sky, and forgetting who I was there with again, where are we going


to find out if it is true or not, painting a green table white, we stained it on the inside and


almost died, think not of the settings, think not of the scenes, think not of the apple then


and when it was and where, think not of the conception of seven seconds in heaven


i missed it then, i spun the planets instead around a diamond, spinning in smaller circles


around on a compass, that is wear it was left then the remains in a magazine, clipping the


wings on a gold tree, beneath the top of the compass and hid under the lid, before the


trails, we're in focus, before the pathway was smoke and keep repeating the same streets


before the boulder was pushed off the bridge, the place we left it then, the sidewalk caved


there is no end to the nightengales songstress seamed there is no funny bone in the hat


stitched for a pin press in the desert removing a trap set by one and the same, it is how


you whip a bullet into place and graze the shooting sparks for stars like sand on the road


that leads to the hill that leads to the waves that leads you to the cheap thrills, it is a


definitive reflection then the mask looking white in the mirror red for the ink, all the details


replaced in history erased speak in a language arising in the mindless morning dews

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