Eater Of Worlds

Zanni

Sits in front of a mirror

Smears his face with paint

His sad eyes

Come alive

With rings of black

And the white muzzle

Cracks when he smiles

Auguste

Paints a teardrop on his cheek

And swigs

From a bottle

Of broken dreams

The hot liquid

Burns his cackling throat

And warms his cold, cold heart

Harlequinade

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