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Autumn Sickness

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  • Autumn Sickness

    In the gutter pyres of leaves smolder
    Their wires in your blood
    Her cigarette smoke floats like a commanding hand
    While you start to feel unwell

    Her look says she is master of indigo and time
    Different from the other gaudy plumage
    That has wandered
    Into the early evening to loiter

    Later in her room
    She removes her half-slip the foliage
    Of the moon
    Tangled in the spider web of now

    Everything is white and curdling
    Ancient lovers review their bones
    And see nothing
    Her burnt almond hair tastes like death




    Last edited by Tanner; 02-22-2017, 02:50 PM.
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