Clay
Bred of i days
Bitter is but your blood,
The tongue of i soul
Holds not your murky breath
Eyes laughing,
Lips forming words shapeless
Peek i in your heart
There in a twin
A hundred moons dancing by
Your blood taste i again
Bitter! bitter!
Shadow jumping
Body but sitted
I sight deceived
Stranger i rub faces with today
Blood tasteless
For then i know
You call i clay
But see not the cracks
In a stranger
Do i find i clay
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