Flaming crescent of violent release,
Dew on a leaf, silent breeze,
Bound by clocks, dual mechanic,
The wonders of thy grace – cruel orgasmic.
On the streets today emptiness does sting,
Motion follows where the mind gives in,
Gaze what prisms conceive.
A stone for all ages, not a moment free.
And if everything was flying not static,
And the silk in your eyes was glowing ecstatic,
Awkward tremors would be a symphony,
Time and form would be me.
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