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The air is different
where feet slip
across steel veins,
air singing through their hands,
outstretched fingers
pushing the sky ever higher,

they run like birds, tethered
to their metal branches
rocking beneath the soles of their feet,
swinging hearts across the sky,
guiding rays of the sun
through their hair,

souls gathering in the clouds,
pulling at children's imaginations
like the strings of a guitar
weaving the sky
into their dreams
in the clay *** by the window
the arthritic orchid
unsticks its tongue
and with fat-knuckled roots
pokes the dust for water

the crayon sun emerges from the clouds
and draws the water from the garden
"but dont you want to lighten up?"
the tree said to the sun-starved grass
whose cells were white as bone

"not really" sighed the aching grass
"its all ive ever known"
like ants in a glass struggling
your muscles sing your pointless pain
like weeds in a parking lot
you wilt and come undone
with no problems and no fun

ive dug my grave
and ill lie in it

the plague of hair has touched my face
my bedroom is a hopeless place
like white bread in the rain
i melt and come undone
with no problems and no fun

ive run my bath
and ill lie in it
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