speckle
Corridors behind us all a flutter.
Perfect bright ahead except for where it isn't.
Old man's beard outside,
fills the window,
lean,
spackle of red spittle
peppered about
and teeming with squirrels.
Polish the weird ones and let em shine,
I'd've said.
Love,
the dead minotaur
Perfect bright ahead except for where it isn't.
Old man's beard outside,
fills the window,
lean,
spackle of red spittle
peppered about
and teeming with squirrels.
Polish the weird ones and let em shine,
I'd've said.
Love,
the dead minotaur





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