Perfection
Slits for eyes,
Through dusk of dawn,
And written down on tissue paper.
Floral in briefcase,
Drenched beneath cold willow,
Tunes of merry metal.
Wrapping in the circles,
In which we cannot be,
Merely a human being.
Slits for eyes,
Through dusk of dawn,
And written down on tissue paper.
Floral in briefcase,
Drenched beneath cold willow,
Tunes of merry metal.
Wrapping in the circles,
In which we cannot be,
Merely a human being.
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