When you close your eyes they speak to you in a thousand years or more, you meet a girl who scratches at your flesh till it comes out, you tight rope on memory before that dragons breath spills forth with burning veins wrist fire, you are made of, you are made of / more than art and dominance, you lick the wounds your lovers left, you don’t know if you’re empty yet, you don’t know if you’re emptiness
( Glower )
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