Dust and Starlight.
Envious tirades like specks of dust glinting in the shaft.
She should capture them and wear a wreath
of time flowing from leaf to leaf.
From thorn to thorn.
Fortune smiles on the stump.
Convalescent gnarls gnash, nightingales of daylight.
Twisting and turning like spirals of the future
laced with venom and calling songs.
Motivate.
Bacteria are multiplying ever longer, eternally spreading
oceans of virus. Space and time, moonrays of gold.
Digital blue and green hover over terrible massacres and
the butchers of liberty sit in oaken capsules
free from accounts of stolen souls. Bodies of
specks and dust, but the spirits of stars.
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