Rine Your Head

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Red rings float amongst each other
In the white.
Chains fuse together and then pinch apart,
Then together again,
And I with the blue drapings
Watch the wind blow
With patient eyes,
With patient thumbs.

Specks in blue-black liquid
Swirl in disaster.
The page is wet.
It must be quarantined,
So that all else could be demolished
And I free of memory.





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