Time of Orchids
windswept spectacle
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And on
And on
And unto shunning skies
Ailing all that is spectacle
If you need me, capture this
Such is love up front
Where strong scathe
Menaces to touch
Firm, grasping gesture
First pleasure and the pain
Of bringing forth the news
A reaction of held hands
For cluttering the way
With secret mercy
Let these bodies fall
True and endwise
These bodies all
The skeletal
Murmur