allegory (r) wrote,
allegory
r

So of course this is my real journal

And thus I am not prone to
becoming the face or
making the right
marks upon
the middle
of a long
evasive
night.

It might come as a shock
to know the cranial sound
rings as a doorbell, flattening
the passions of perhaps
and the matters of regard.

You lose the presence of a
charade on the yearning
grand spilt steps—
do not mind
the slick
odd.
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