a saw meets bone
the carpenter, weeps blood
from stone estuary eyes
i know, this type of
knowing, metal glowing
wood receiving the element
of civility, the pavement
reflects the rain when it
rains, church bells dominate
rooms filled with faithfully
faithless; bound to seasons
more now then any ancient
farmer, wives count days
as artful as a miser and
know when the down pour,
downfall is coming, they
are secretly saving up for
escape.
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