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Campbell Jan 2016
a drop in my vision, a field obscura
it's as clear as the shade of your mascara
seismic proximity and i'm growing limnic I
can't help but skim the shards I trimmed to
where I can't begin

she was with you in the tiles
my cheeks tore at your custom smiles
rascal rolling among the red and the black I
know there's a reason Lib pinned you down
what whisker sensed your gold

never to infinity or to zero
but if it tends
the tenderness will never grow

when I felt of you the thousandth time
and kept me guessing in my rime
grab my lapels and make me ruby I
would be Faust for a hypocaust
please just let me in

I'm sure I will be ruined for a while
but in the end
my friend for you it's worth the miles

— The End —