
blue sluice cast off care like bluesnowfields into rigid water,and wash with mud the thrustof earth, our skin soft as salt mines.built you areof bitch and buttercream,of soured elements in the bluedot of a pin-prick spotlightand windowed skull.
we can watch the fire fadeinto a black rat canvas,into blue gates that tumble upand loose finger grooves,smear eyes across your face like warpaint,faster and faster,momentum in the race to nowhere.

and once done, we turn,we go aground and pushup the lines of blue backsorbiting the moons of thatrising ass, around corners,a shattered life in starshine,the masksbeneath
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