malicious lung

Your drastic hands displaced all the stars in the sky. Wisdom engine. Weird wired lord of rains and horses. You shake smashed mythologies from the folds in your old black coat and when you open your mouth, street lights, street lights.

I fell asleep a hunk of Amethyst and woke up a glass of putrid milk. In walk all the expected dead, the cut constellations of their chains glinting and the white sheets like Novocaine sleep. You cough me up from your one malicious lung and weigh my sad heart against a feather.

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