679

Each piece is an artifice

Remembered suitably

Each snug corner

Not remembered away

I’m dying here

My hours consist of swallows

And swallows and swallows

Making air-holes

Down deep in a vacuum

And I’m dying here

Exploitative sweet church mouse

Thrice blind: then – today – next

Oh magistrate

Make the call – flip the switch

And yes, I’m dying here

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