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where's the light and where's the bread the ghosts are waiting to be wed i watched you turn and then you said "where are you sleeping? where are you sleeping tonight?" i have to go, your chair is next to the metal bed. death has long been overfed but i refuse to share my cure. i know your breath and your sound, your fingers are warmth that have often found me sleeping safely underground, i'm sleeping safely underground. i heard the cardinal when she crashed, she made the morning come too fast. the moon has long moved over our house and are you okay with that? there are no ghosts i haven't met. our fingers pass over the glass and i cannot break it down. i cannot break it down.
11:46 PM
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