Cradle your sentiment inside bleak purple forearms
because circulation flows like ice in a torrid landscape.
With ecstasy.
Roll up the finished, bloody, chromatic carpet and step softly on the exhausted severed floorboards.
They yell as if infatuation would heal the tendency for them to creak when walked on
Depleted and scarred the wall paper hung heavy like the heart which that I bear.
The painting which you gave me lived docile on the passive walls.
The dust made the grey painting
greyer than death
chapters written without any desire.
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