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Listen
Can't you hear me?
Striding behind you,
echoes of footsteps
bounce off linoleum.
My steps are petroleum,
lighting up fires.
My love is a spire,
to which I aspire.
I inspire:
the masses,
their classes,
stuck on their a**es
searching for assets,
among the distracted.
We scream to our temples.
Holding our temples.
You turn and I fumble,
my faith in you crumbles.
My steps slam the floor of
linoleum.
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