Or sallow in this light your bonnet
Hovers teaming with special forces
Rope down ladder sophist, head on
Train rail, bob like a nail
Bomb the front style with hearing
To Doric convention, the high bonnet
To shred up, to layered reduction
In the pot, plastic consumptive
To her opiate virtues. What
Makes us sleep, how we cry to defeat
The bad ones, feeling like whispers
To retch from, to screen from
The orders to demean, to prop up
Coronate, be-haloed candle operation.
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