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Beyond the turn of the storm.
Dare I kiss
the darkened violet lips
of a chameleon?
That promises
the undulated
ebb and flowing,
flooded, blooded
vomit,
undertowing.
Vanquished hearts
perplexed in rapid
irregardless toils
of fluctums faltered
over fostered fear
in those whom
once without a doubt
are now uneasy
and
unpleasable.
