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it's named after his wife;
crashing on his wedding anniversary
it looks like a gate, but this door's always unlocked.
chasing her dainty footprints across
grassy fields every weak Sunday
the artist is most depressed; tortured while singing in light.
while getting high:
I
imagined my heart
blooming inside out
the narthex; with its shattered stained glass
a beautiful epicenter
slender, pale moonlight;
a fine evening for imperceptibly
amiable rogues
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