not burned nor spurned
by song or wraith
palmed marbles, drawing lifelines
pleading, pleasing escape

a wist rising west, clawing and aching deep
to burst forth into apocalypse days
castles walls built of crumbled, gypsum walls
cut with dreams, sniff'd up in wanton ways

a drip; a drag, slid across a fine carpet
a taste, a touch of trepidation
a hurricane of pallid thoughts
phoned in,...

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