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Great Granite City
We don't exactly have God. We just sit and try to stay awake.
Friday, August 31, 2018
Your Belgian Things
Tear down the scabs,
fertilize the bleeding,
till the pink fields.
Let the raw flesh grow,
expand the old wounds;
let the light in,
let the light heal.
Let the summer winds
confuse your directions;
let the autumn rains
paint those fresh keloids.
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