I have seen these hues / bring the deepening of my blues. / Inside the rows and lines of my swallowed up and overwhelmed disappearing. / Inside the measures of solitude that swam through sorrow, seeking something unnamed.
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“country sojourner, you gaze at me in rough / lips psychedelic rum, see i live in the old tales / of thick thighed psychostasia. weighting between / the self-actualized fat of my body and the / flickering of french-kissed soul. see i move”
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