The Acorn plateau ramble

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Lay another down to the pile
You keep it at your feet
The faces come in and out
Nothing familiar in a while
It didn't take that long
To move from A to B
Shakes and from your feet
Though it would appear from your smile
That heaven was in reach
Swallow and spit it out
A market of passion and denial
The precious noise of wounded boys in heat
They fall apart as Sunday skirts recede
Oh you long to be
But the waterway retreats
And shakes hands with the sea

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