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May 2017
This life is a poisoned glory.
Gloried and poised, it's only a temporary
Illusory bulwark of an elusive heaven.

Darling, I have worn sores into this Temple
I can't plead innocence
For all the times I pulled the purple veils
Over my better judgment.

I have sold goods to the devil
And worse, I have tried to excuse myself.

Baby, please don't hate me.

Don't pull away so harsh when I try to kiss you
I'm not that ugly. Baby, you told me.

You said it would all be okay.
Look, I've stayed strong for us,
I've kept steady believing in the light,
And we'll melt softly into death.
Matt Shaw
Written by
Matt Shaw  Philadelphia.
     Ryan Holden and Anora Emporium
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