Fingers-cut, Megamachine - Wings Of Mother
hung in the room hooked through the roof folded in half big to grow foot on the ground red on the bed unnatural to see you oh this way wings of mother dripping milk from dust off your leaves pouring anew open to all but at my weary call following up simple and sweet it seems so unreal broken from you wings of mother dripping milk from if you want it come and find it reaching in arms never keeping folded in half
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