It doesn't take these graceful feats to restrain these thirsts,
But I am dry of lust and haste and indifference.
O' this undying thirst is corrosive.
My trust falls on liars words.

Please fix these hands these walls. All of them destitute.
I will drown in these words. And in each kiss and drink we confide.

What will survive these, once star stricken eyes now blurred?
And with each kiss and each drink watch these friends subside.

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