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the sweat from my hand is turning my table blue which is black and white and it looks like

Crowley with a wand pointing at a rat running the show, twaek for the elf and fig for the

Ohms im still building the walk around working in the sound of a spider staring at me

From through the glass door with a mask the capturing casket of Dying for a grand ole'

Tkae, enter the smok, break the flock of sheep jumping humans in their cages, let that

sink sink in let the potatoes not washed well enough be cut and the toes twinkling like

a rainbow written in waht are those can vans, empties the clock and spills the dahlias

all over the red dress for red wine for wine rings for red slime for red eyes with red minds

that grape and when it was i thought of the reflection Ive never seen a redder dress in my

dreams ive never seen a redditer make the secret recipe ive never seen the open wound

still frother and fractalling sparking and spackling holes in the foundation of belief of what

it is that is haunting my mind for a question that comes round again now and then and for

whom and what is it to do nothing your whole life and wince when it hurts the diamond it

burns a hole through the shoe by the fire i was pressing the breaks i switched the stone my

toes whips the eggs back from the candle again it is flames for all it is a fuego petal it is

the thirteenth realm that is impassible unpossible the possibilities twist the untwisted jewel

and make jewelry and kiss your lucky foot cut off clean and burned with a lighter and timed

by the sand and kept between basking and basking ask me again kept between bottles the

piss from the swingers the fight club of the tunnel within me dying for ten minutes the one

it is a scene of far reaching ever it is keeping the stomach in knots like the throng dead by

the time i was ten enter the mind of a children thinking forever is far far too long to alive it

be one with the mind that is questioning sand for the numbers they speak are written on the

hands chopping it up again old boy it is just a lottery away it is just a decision to be made by

whom i couldn't say in a graveyard we play yet in the cementary we scrub it in circles and for

the finishing touch we are just beginning to crust the planets spinning around like treasure

buried by another stream buried for to believe that when I dug it up again it would still be

there for me somewhere inside that feeling of life lost at the touch of the reflection of evil

for to create a feast for every dying second when was it the last time when was it the second

coming around again for the blasphemy for the miniute hand retreated standing there knock

knock knocking on your own door always for a treat and a trick and a tassel or two someday

may I stop walking the hallways in circles and straight away good sir the mirror at the hand

the end of the hall it turns and tuning into the square at a right angle for the leftover crack

it always works he said and i said, good riddance in my head like grace did, it still is a deep

question to me, for what and for whom and i threw back the spike he darted me and left

him with a funny boner, thats crew cut thats get up i never thought twice about it couldnt

name another sponge, slate, too far from today far into history there was a fawn of the dawn

there was a fort, we wrote on the walls, and built bunkers to flunk out of paintball, shot on

the top of the head watching the knot untangling and dropping the dimes like murders

thought of it wrong twice again for the first time and little brother bubble gum got punched

by his dad on fathers day and i wrote a song about it he walked out and probably walked to

the store that is closed now, I just thought about the hitch we were just little kids we would

walk for miles to see tits down the road and that is offensive to me and to Nick and we would

shuffle the night away to get born backwards to fall from space like I did back then just the

other day I smelled the air and caught just a mistaken thought and said it smells exactly like

it did back then, and I thought it was the night and I knew that it was and I caught on to

what someone was, laying down and lifted up, twirling through the fingers of whom the

diamond slips down the fingers like water falling from the bridge it hits to spin and just a

moment it was just a thought of the mind opening for rememberances, the worst joke that

is, that is what the movie is about isn't it, find reason then in all things returning to Whom.

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