Precipitating

A Loch Ness
Cartouche
Filled with smoke
And mirrors of death.

My painstaken identities
Stripped.
A club, a spade, a diamond.

Poker played out,
For lives and souls;
Mark zipin sunrises,
The never ending gold
Of your youth.

You are younger today
Than yesterday;
The mirror is broken.

Twilight’s corpse bones broken,
Hair extending beyond the shadows of death,
And your poison ivy eyes,
Amused and entertained.

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