The silent power of clarity.
Running down your face
fill your cup with my eruption,
drown in my velvet ocean.
Ever rising tide.
I'm on the edge and
blood runs south,
ever rising tide.
Disrupting the surface,
temperature raised.
Gulp it down.
View from the top:
your little mustache.
We won the body lottery baby
now make it feel right.
Feel it like a knife
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