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Sand abrades exposed flesh, sweat a sheen under the relentless sun.
Canine shadows dart, ribs like forgotten Greek architecture beneath matted fur.
A tangled knot of warmth against the encroaching chill.
The ocean’s rasp, a relentless monologue.
Time sifts through cracked palms, each grain a castaway of memory.
The silhouette, a crooked question mark against the bruised twilight sky.
Another revolution of the sun. Another turn of the screw.
Underneath the Armani, the Gucci, the lies,
a stink pot simmering, a carcass that fries.
We strut, we swagger, these suits of cheap flesh,
parading our trophies, denying what’s fresh.
Love’s a greasy spoon breakfast, a hollow-eyed stare,
two bodies slam together, then vanish in air.
City’s a steel jungle, a concrete cocoon,
where dreams turn to dust ‘fore the afternoon.
The mirror’s a sucker punch, a cruel, shattering blow,
wrinkles like roadmaps where pleasure did flow.
We’re all just slabs of meat, sweating and slick,
dressed up for the slaughterhouse, with nowhere to stick.
But wait, a flicker, a rebellion’s hot spark,
screaming obscenities into the indifferent dark.
We guzzle, we gamble, a desperate craze,
pissing on the night sky in a boozy daze.
For even in decay, there’s a desperate gleam,
a middle finger flashing to the almighty scheme.
We’reardust and fury, a glorious mess,
living fast, then dissolving in the emptiness.
Вафелька
Mean eyes, claws like knives,
tiny terror hunts all night.
Gifts on the floor, cold and stark,
a love that’s mean and dark.
We fight, shadows dance in rage,
a truce we hold, a fragile cage.
Lost souls, this world’s our scar,
emerald eyes gleam, who cares?