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Icarus' Fall
Streets are artificial yellow in dark nights,
And Motel room flickering fluorescent lights,
say hullo to passerby
There’s no dust, not cold,
the red lipstick in the bathroom slides
Simple blood streaked teeth smiles and lashes stuck together above eyes
And the sore that wasn’t quite “cold” on the lips
Smiles, simple wants; nature indeed
Not thinking, he’ll fly too far
He's soaring high into her sky
And so she’ll watch, once again,
The Downfall of Icarus

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