Salt sugar, stark dark as tail-lights drift and float upon fog.
A scent in the ether, Either you or I hear foghorn ferrules and now the time has come.
Tell me I am not alone? Not the only one?
Brass engines hum with numbing heat
As noxious as a fucked upon sheet
As aware of pressed leaves in a forgotten book.
Twinkled candles matched your eyes as
At our party, clowns surprised by crying
Because nobody laughed.
A faded photograph.
A pressed flower.
Another lost hour.
A rain shower of confetti and crimson pain.
If you are VERY nice to me
I'll never write anything like this again.
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