The merveille comes gloved and heavy
Over the bone cobbled streets
To reckonings and money
And spots of blood on the sheets.
Full fathoms five in headlines drowned
We waken, drained – your mule vigor
Carmelized, ridden up and down
Unti we agree on its mortal rigor
That has left us speechless for another day.
What pound of flesh did you want
So much that this is the price you pay?
So to absence and this awful can’t.
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