So long as there is a gap between us
Begging for a wedge.
There will always be a need for,
Well, my grinding dreams,
Sugar cubes crumbling into cream.
There will always be a need for,
My wounds, sealed
Off rooms fingers comb through.
There will always be a need for,
Longing, or the wheel spins no longer
In circles, while faces painted white
Obsolete secrets.
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