Origins of faint sore dust looms in drinking waste
Pockets pretending under soft vigils
Gifts of seeking tundras
Miles of ready tides
Rusty leaves and tired mansions of truth wander into herds left blind
Auroras deny bottled meaning
Tired of want
Ready for rest
Eastern doors making dancing dens
Proper spaces where open coins fall into trance and milk
Piles of the morning
-Cory Tambourine
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