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****, it’s alright
You’re too sad to hold
And be calmed in the night

Your tattered arms
Ripped bare and cold
Are preened of all their flight

The satellites
hang off the cliffs
And beg the young to try

For tiny lights
You make your jump
And hope for a requite
-A thousand years of wrath-

In a dream my boy hood trembled
In a dark room I peeled it off
and then my skin did resemble
The worthy vessel the act had bought

and I could feel truth swelling in me
Bubbling up and to my mouth
But when I tried to speak of the vanity
A thousand years of wrath came out

— The End —