Skin to the wind, I watch the moon. With my heart on my sleeve I face it’s doom.
Naked lies in a life of light tonight. Fancy fools reason and beguiles the sight, ‘Cause not all things that shine deserve that glory Just like not every rhyme is a simple story. The truth is a pistol robed in rose, closed On eyes whom forget how questions are posed. It’s seed will die bound by the bite of force Unless a love allow nature it’s berth To run and play for half the day beneath The sun amongst the trees with baréd teeth. O’ heart of mine, drum that cavern with Will To rally our strength ‘til all the heav’ns fill. -MMF
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