my hair is darkening to a lengthy loneliness
lava has touched my lips, you consider as lipstick
i have propped my heart against the lights of the showcase
my tenuous dreams are hung on the shelves
there is a falling star in my night-patterned eyes
all my wishes drop down to the floor and they are dispersed
my legs are as cold as my poverty at the bus stops
my missed youth is trickling through my eyelashes
: my delayed desires are my dowery
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