A star, or scan
Or ghosting
Drive, at the setting sun
Red as Aster
John has hollow hands
Perhaps wine enough for mystery
Upon the physic of Ishness
Pretending some hidden thing
Kara keeps us
All stones of riverflesh
Palm in palm, in kindness
As Kasi weeps the every
For those brief moments of joy
Oh, beloved ones
Shall we be courageous?
Shall we open the doors again?
Don't you remember the future?
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