i like to mix my metaphors.
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a train of yellow bubblesline the floor and
shine on my feet
from over there
shadows and silhouettes
wax and wane
low rhythms
medium pitch
with attitude
or teen angst
take your pick
nobody's velvet melody
is sanctioned
to feel soft here
mold an edge
hard and dark
hold it in place
to rush wood fibers
lost in lilting notes
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