Voices nude in the quiet house
Something, a muffle shining on us
Something in the night is on
The smell in blue
Clouded with it, whispering
A crossing park
A little crowded house
Like blooming flowers
A line red raising
Now heaven's cold
Render the violet home
Little girls falling asleep
Of the past that looks at us
Bring it in, fall asleep like you're from the far side
Bees, where do daemons dream the pilgrim dreams
News day, of what you believe
Someone singing a song about a soldier
What happened two miles ago
And so the sun will be last night
Now the beauty slings across my brain
I can't watch the margin of my soldier
Turn their faces, faces
Faceless, faceless
The heavens are my own
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