quick, slick, sick moves man

quick, slick, sick moves man
the mind of men made marvelous,
and the good hearts all sit quiet
while the dark oceans all run towards them,
darker than soot swallowed in exasperation,
where the fumes of that burned the house down
left a damsel sunset undistressed,
waving out in streaks with her crimson
warming the air where their tongues do rain dances,
and they drink till they’re parched and drunk again,
and he heals her and she heals them and they’re sung
with each silvered step eating all the gold,
and their laughter indecisive,
their glances longing and slow,
made pale and rosy and flush,
begging for life made of the sky.

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