rolling down the hill, you catch the willow tree in front of me
bend it low, carve your name into my knees, carefully
hold the moment
when all the world abides
and tie together
the wrong onto the right
breathe you in, swallowing the waterfall that walks and crawls
cold... cold... counting out the chemicals that keep you slowly
dying... alone,
with wild eyes alight
and you fold the bible
until it feels polite
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