| Unless ~ |
| The orb of my eye glides on long black ice forgetless, i roll on your absent body like a bed i want-- the orbit reaches its aphelion I am the fire that burns in the funeral pyre Pure and sunless Ophelia floats in the silence of the hours in a sepulchre that eternally disappears but still i hear a roaring a burning of flesh and still i live on your eyelid I am the fly that burns --the pyralid |
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