Weathered as gate posts
by departures
and the white ghosts
of the gone,
wrapped in tarpaulins
we talk of passion.
Our passion's the saline
in which hides are hung
to make from a hinge of skin
the leather of love.
Weathered as gate posts
by departures
and the white ghosts
of the gone,
wrapped in tarpaulins
we talk of passion.
Our passion's the saline
in which hides are hung
to make from a hinge of skin
the leather of love.
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