Is that your cruor; Or mine?

I can't in good hopelessness accept apologies,

mouthful words famous for lying can never be taken seriously;

Profound to see drama claims no hold near,

love – now rises where only chaos played rough in fear,

damp canvas covering thy floor from once sympathies: now resembles cruor smear,

painful as past experience speaks well versed; clear,

I am –

for at least the plausible second filled sham –

torn for the emptiest grimace; yet – as well for the causal gratified sneer....






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