Grimwald smiles and you'll die
defined, disagreeing and divine--
all sick and no sleep, pretty
empty rollers sprinkling
glass in the drying granite slushing in
the sleet,
all
deaf ears curled ivory
roads foreign salted with fresh bile and sweat,
foggy from the furthest reaches,
slipping through beach breaches back
to boats across a map-shorn shore, ailing
for atlantis and beyond,
echoing in seconds after
with regrets alternating against every
long gone fast buck borrowed, spent, and lost
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