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fuck August

and you will fear death not
after all those transparent lukewarm sips
so many, even my finger looks like a maiden

the pale rose petals I baked
are pale enough to make me sick
and be sold as love

walk the stairs up, walk them down
one step is granted
the wrong before you collapse

heat and moist more willing than the most
available and ready

fuck August
and you will fear death now
.