Two guitarists at the window by the night,
the moon glides gingerly over
sounds of humanity
where jungle meets swamp.
Air is filled with longing,
we awaken to it like gypsies,
mayhem and confusion both rushing
over sanguine dreams.
Hypnotist and his magician
hand in hand in the alley,
the highway motions,
the sea shatters the illusion of time,
the heart empties its vessels.
Brick upon brick,
civilization is built and
worn patterns of the ancients reminisce
amid the brooding whispers of
the virgins of the clotheslines.
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