My house is full of
statuettes
from all over
this Terra Incognae
my Vitae.
They look upon
unto me as
my books do
to they grow
on to my skin
as greedy sin.
In living
while denying
dying
I am Trying
to unravel
and travel
with my friends
until these hands
throw sands
shake feathers
draw rivers into
sunken sediments
and drunken shades.
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