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Lost boys

par Shearwater
My blistered feet turn blondy
So I take to the air, and I´m everywhere
I´m starlight, I´m moonlight
Over burning fields and bodies
I stay close to the ground
slipping miles from the arches and arc-lights
Into the warm night

My winged children, all
Will fly over the mountain wall
To the lid of the sky
and slice its belly full wide
With their warm knives
(Not the pin-pricks of starlight)
But to bathe in the bright blood
Of the world above
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