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sheddingpetals:

You can find him in the room carrying smoke
To kiss the roofs and cloak our throats
Just as words would graze ones lips, the
Glints in our eyes so staggering and
Splitting that they hide behind the fog of
Blown death and stress expressed from
Ink to drop across sly words, sly thoughts
That mingle with the silk of another inhale by
Deep drags of the atomic explosions to make
Home in our catastrophic chests; there is a land
Billowing out from another planet in our minds.