Spinning: shape shifting, into factions of the middle east.
The heart does rest with peace. Counting the blind moons cycle,
friend and foe wrapped up into one.
Into five silver sums, delirious by the sun.
Sideways, calming me.
Terminal to let it be.
The flooding of the sea.
Taking my hand, burrowed deeper with the sand.
Earth is the squandering type.
Lets say, goodnight.
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