Dappled Cities Fly
Within Hours
time is on our side, sleep is slow, and underfoot is only the world that chimes cued by man-time, but we have a soul, so we don't need a face we just need a home; no eyes to see the smile above the chin, and no nose to smell the breath within, and no ears beneath the receding hairline. climb with all your ropes tied in a bow and curdled down to the white bone, which fray and whip till they sing, and slip in the line ?we don't need a face, we just need a home?.
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