Twenty

The words to re-sounding

end

Too the resonance of

this moment

Shall we be handed

the palms to fan

our own hot-headed

egos

 

Digressing into

the progressive

Registers of empty

titles

 

Shallow roles and

rolling pages, being

flipped

flipped, flipped

 

Upon our hollowed

thrones, altogether all together,

in unity

Alone.

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