and feel the broken glass-
the dust and the stones and the broken bones beneath my feet
I want to feel the pulse of the dying animal under my hand
I want to lie with my dying city for one last time
(I want to lie with her again)
I know your skin is wearing thin
it stretches a little too far over everything I've known
I know the little hair you keep is fading grey
the stacks and stacks of bones
go to sleep my fair kin, go to sleep
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