I am waiting the moment to surrender to midnight’s karaoke in tempo with a blushing cigarette ash and exhaled promises of vowels bleeding across the margins like lipstick on a cognac snifter with the scent of decadent weed between stanzas of ghosts known intimately as the back of my own hand and yet. you manage to surprise me with fresh revelations of midnight’s karaoke stretching it’s limbs across the page past midnight one line at a time
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midnight’s karaoke
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