With The Lawn

Cross blended in song,

their bitter tastes

begin to shade into

a sickly delicacy.

 

Frosted are the

jumbled notations

among the ink strained

lines.

 

Blended all into

the questions of

a melting pot.

 

How oblique that

spicy umami,

we evade the

kamorebi, with

the moist embedded

sands.

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