there is no sense of god to be found
my knees where the heart and heat
scorching inside of that needs
i’m a creep, i plead for misdeed
the box smells the greatest from afar
could i only have a sense, i would feel that wings are shining under her shell
and i take the way to the far strawberry bush
and then
i am dropping into your blossoms
rubbed into a swarm
it’s late
it’s late i am going forward
going backward
going that constantly
no shiver harms him
no colour blinds him
and nothing hurts
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