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How strangely words like this
still fit across my mouth
Hung up by the wrists,
perfect portrait of myself
Beyond the obvious
I´ve little else to add
To an unfinished poem
I´ll never understand

Lies from your furthest teeth
I bought with gold
Colour me black and
blue for mistakes of old

And spare me all the oldest tricks from
books I´ve never read
I´ve all the solace I will ever need
in your own hand

Cover my lips, won´t you?
For they know not what they do.
Is it sinful to pray without a
cross but for my fingers behind my back?

I was hoping you would find out...

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