fancy intrigues between

lonely hearts at night with

out a good decision in mind

or sound of mind to sound the hour

midnight callings blowing trumpets

calling out the ways we seek each

other on a blissfull history a

echo of the nineteen nineties

and we are purpose built to find

each other seeking only those

who fit into the hollows that we’ve

worn into ourselves little by little

and it’s not enough to justify the means

the end is impropriety  with whoever

will be there to please me improperly

those lonely nights were gauges of the soul

where anyone would seek comfort

in hollow homes crafted to hold

just two and not one other

and hardly ever did these two unite

if only to cry out in fright at the unsightly beings

that they’ve found themselves then to be



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