So many angles
yet none
among the interstellar
branches
and their smokey
moving heads
My blue head
yet isn't close to
the sky
I unrest
beneath your soil
Searching for
a wet secret
roaming the ground
thirsty for a trace
of destiny
I can suck on
drifting like
blood inside
the vein
being the passion
moving the circle
of the world
blooming
pretending
I'm red and
a constant glare
you can't escape.
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