watch the top of the world burn. or maybe. just the solitary plate of fire 5 stories above the moderately damp ground.
3/4 of a syringe of concentrated caffeine. 48 ounces of novocaine. 1/2 liter of sharp words.
here. you shed your golden skin. and lay crumbed on the ground around the intoxicating shreds of what you once were. fumes of the past making you forget the present.
then. between dream conversations and electronic letters. you grow new skin.
now. you are a nice shade of pewter.
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