Soul searching is forfeiture
Plains grazed in strained silence
Drip dry from epiphanies
Smolder inside of dust
Aquifers pulsate in odd time
Curtailed pride of a liar
Strung out on a fence
Dreams outweighed by darning
Eyelids, see no evil
See no truth
Sacrificial lamb, taking a minute to think
Autophagia or go hungry
Draped taut over a drum
Skeleton is the closet
Sky sliced, cataract pours frothy
Levity of a chameleon
Foggy country meadow
Sobs thrust voiceless into cloth
Tight around the mouth
Drone of rustling in an echo chamber
Climbing pushes ladders down
Leaves bury the trees
Perfect as root rot and blister rust
Stand in place for a century
Time is getting dreadfully old
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