here heads the open heart, here heels stand dug in and hard,
breath sighs another, through the mouth of a dawn,
wrapped up in silk skin, cocooned adjourned,
sediment collecting all about the sides of him,
cold eyes collecting all around the sight of him,
such a gifted mind for sardonic stares,
cut through great swathes of his life,
prepare me please as he is prepared.
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These are, for the most part, poems.
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