in the desert room
thinking about its walls
the ceiling telling me doom
or you tumble and fall
no I think my heart would
collapse into the blood stream
flowing with the worse news
like Nile turned sour
stinking authoritarian contraption
holding my yearning hostage
how can this be good
when the taste sound dreamy
with dry reality waiting for dew
yes a miraculous irrigation
not another favorite chapter
I just read between lines that
just spell sweat drunk


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