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Hot Aluminum Soup
Laying in a field of chrysanthemums
consumed by your affection
the sky was red
when I thought I saw you
The sun was present
but it tasted like lightning
I wish you worshipped me
the way I worship you
Now I blame myself
for the silver spinoffs
but maybe it is all your fault
I hate your cat-like idiosyncrasy
I felt so safe in your hands
but you were weak when I woke up
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