we revert to our old ways as a hymn to the cyclical.
it is with barren soil that our hearts are buried, and tilled
and no matter the tears
the damn thing is still.

we revert to our old ways as a hymn to the unknown
we say “back off, unknown. I cannot stand you”
an array of puzzle pieces are set before you
to complete for fun.
but the pieces fit all
and it is impossible to procure the correct image,
if there is one.

we revert to our old ways
because im terrifying
and it takes a special man to decide im not special
and consumable.

Try this,
for a change.

in reverse
in rivers.

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