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a burning in the barrens
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whole lotta other stuff night comes and the moon is shrouded
hieroglyphic’s draw on a fearful hypothesis
serpentine tongues tasting
scar tissue from an abyss
corpus wedged between its highest position in the sky
as amber light mix the darkness
and the crackle of flame
as barrens cycle new life reclaims
smoke drifted for miles and we awoke
in the pines bitter taste of hot tongue and sticky lips,
with hoarse and complex heavy breath
