Mosquito Teeth
Forty Four: I am leaving through gravel
Which is a voice, a voice of lines.
Forty Five: All the kings of plastic meant
No harm by the Drive-in, only ripples of snow
Forty Six: On the killing fields. Affection
Buys a ticket for the shivering wings.
Forty Seven: The last voice is a vacation,
Wholesale nutrients and evaporation.
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