Seasons on a surface.

its was the first red I saw,

darker because I drooled on it.

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when I could stand, it was

almost flowers in blobs.

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 It. the divide between the flat

downstairs from my spine.

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absorbent our damp pad,

for each hour’s fluid.

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its ripped along the flowers now,

sleep is my calm.

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my head has never moved

as my ankles go over the edge.

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