my lips

are blue

paint my

face

drain

my veins

remove

my gold

smoke

my bones

a feast

of my

ashes

is carried

by

born again

sparrows

laughing

in drag

in sorrow

to a field

of madness

planted

lurking

there

to bloom

with

dignity

justified

but crucified

happy and

trashed

pardon the

dust on

my crystal

fingers

this is

my joy

as a

prisoner

 

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