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I only speak agony
staring at the tracks in confusion
waiflike was the winter field
when the maiden did the talkin'

she from hanging chimes in her lonely chamber
sinking with snowy & sad-eyed lust
might the silhouette redeem her

as the latex game is resumed
she coils in caterpillar silk
like chains of spiritual nylon

& she & I between the crusty sheets
will dissolve through the black psychotic morning
& blend with the bong smoke


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