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May 2019
mosaics fade, jaded blue,
industry whistles a spineless chorus
and smells like arsenic,

fire snakes the Aztec two step
while howling winds rush ash + rain
around river bends,

paralleled landscapes drape sunset showers
and dry heat escapes the golden moon,
peyote chills a warpaint shade
from dusk till desert dawn.
trf
Written by
trf
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