III
exiled in a timeless zone, all
of methusula’s friends got charred and blackened
whilst
noptic troubadours bayed silence through their empty sockets
and whistled hush curse
in cryptic syllables.
If swoop derives sideways and lies, drops of saffron teats
bay a bred silence and breed violence so as sweep sends skyways it sings
and
grand velour weavings often soften the pummels that
mars bruises and bends in shame. It happened under a blue
moon.
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