ToSaltTheSoilTurnsTheSun Posted April 13, 2016 Posted April 13, 2016 Cutting edges play the kitchen knife like a violin's broken neck brought back to life. Lying in the parking lot on blankets and towels perfect skin hides a blood clot. Cancer such a shame a pause for an answer. We drew matchsticks to see upon whose back we'll stack all the bricks. The doctor tells me you're there but I just can't see. When dreaming oceans asleep in love whisper to the storms above.
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