The tomorrow stares

from back of thiny sun stair

the greens perishes

as the warwind kisses their lips

and their hips

dancing to the hop of drying

no withering time

the dews drop

and the rain spits

the earth sings

the ground mourns as its crackling

pours out the centipedes

and begin again vomiting plants

its black wear a sign of what? joyous

as the earth and her offsprings cheer

and making the glasses hook

the dying greens will rise

if it spits  

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