the incomplete.silent heads with blazing orange eyes.and suchlike fiery pigments.sparks they stood still because.that touch was far from tender.there ain’t a firmament to blame.horizons are fond of us.materials barely have a name.only fingertips indicate shame.from heights from them cranes we came.we’re not craving for your caring.no we’re not craving for your caring.from heights from them cranes we came.hurt and disfigured to never be the same.feathers incased they are covered in clay.are we still mistaken.no.it’s not us it’s not us.it’s you you’re incomplete.it’s not us but you are.completely incomplete.wish I could implant in you.our point of view.wish you could our lead follow.to swallow make it indifferent.to breathe alongside.to walk cleared of shame.cause we walk with pain.but with our heads held high.with our heads.held high.
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