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The sky bruised a red
before the dusk ate the light.
High up in the north,
I watched the jewels cutting holes
to share the sea with the moon.
There's nothing to gather
from an empty gaze,
but the battleground
of words and pictures
we can assume are unravelling
within.
Blunt my sense of mischief
With your Christ figure mentalities
And I will caress the concaves of your body
With my Satanic, forked tongue.
 Apr 2015 Ryan Clark
Azura Skye
All morning I lie in my bed

Aware of my  dread for the day ahead

Maybe if I close my eyes and fall asleep

will the day be lead away unsaid
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