Take me upward as if we had worn wings
And let feathers molt like innocent men.
These small dissemblings will create our world.
Asteroids playing dice with all the stars,
Yellow light that died before mammals stood.
The sun is dreading the possible future.
An elegance that sings, a nightingale.
It is nice to be a fiery titan.
Father of all, these knives are like your eyes
And in shattered mirrors I find the earth.
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