Real truth from old lips.
time and how it moves,
to be ripped from earth, and considered food.
Memories unflinching cannot be mistreated.
stained floors cuddle to cobwebs,
and newspaper dishware suds on.
It melted.
Caved in resolutions, high with run-on sentenses,
wrong with excitement for roads.
there is a house for the young.
To relish those that know hunger.
if only those dirty sneakers meant magnolia pirate ships .
what is the color of the ocean floor underneath all that sand.
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