What beauty born
rooting your days
to the dry
spreading your losses
in loosed winds
ugly rivers down in tongues
You arch across the day
from morning to moon
tempting a tremble
tempting a fall
much ado about decay
but what beauty born
rooting your days
to the dry
spreading your losses
in loosed winds
ugly rivers down in tongues
You arch across the day
from morning to moon
tempting a tremble
tempting a fall
much ado about decay
but what beauty born
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