Blobby Desert

(randomly mixed)

passed the meaning of loneliness,
where would the new-born go from here ?
a sea of sand without air,
where no-one is able to
love,
the perfect Esmeralda,
da dove vieni bella straniera,
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
where only mountain-shaped myriad
of egos
fake things
fill every footsteps
irony on the curves
created by wind
cold
wind on heated sand
remember us — if at all — not as lost,
the stuffed men
mistakes
made again, again,
and again

the terrifying hollows
burn the eyes that can see

and again

the vanishing mediator
already moved to
society beyond

and again and again and again and again

passion,
thee be gone.

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