Smokey shades of you appear in the daylight
They are welcoming and still
I know not of you or into you
Who you are or may be is as unclear
As the day’s after today agenda
Soldier of your wicked mind
You dare to deviate from a thrill
Recalling your own fleeting will
Soaking your elbows in your past
Lifting your prose into the future
I do heart your stories and
Shameless act of random inappropriate jokes
Which speak high in fantasy, torture and violence
Even if I may not see it they are rich in fortune
Might you be the boy that pushed
The hot dog stand down the subway stairs?
No need for lavish or the beautiful
Only the eyes see
These truths are forbidden in the tower of the victorious
You remain without a staple
Without a trace of alteration of any kind
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