Today is black. Pieced together in small ways
by a feast of cramped hands. Yes. When we apply
electricity it leaps to life with pretty
by a feast of cramped hands. Yes. When we apply
electricity it leaps to life with pretty
pictures, a feast of detours, a blur
of light. But the least of our beloved
memories will cease, should we release
from factories, beasts, cliffs, crumbs.
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