Rotting from with in from lack of
I have a starlight deficiency.
Eating clocks in parts
the moves fall out in smooth rhythms
and I can't help but fall out of place.
the glide and stretch,
i sick and wretch!
like a menu with joy filling corners
these tiny notes of new, balance my terms.
I can run in the path and find out the pebbles.
the path towards the bay slides south.
I'm running out of safe places
am I to be?
in the room with no doors or windows,
there is a star. Safe in green skin.
and that, set apart…a "B" side?
a midway side street? feeding into the epic of an over all story?
(they are SO hungry,
Please feed them!)
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