A dripping faucet.

We held the seance firm,

Each portrait of ourselves askance.

Things once valued 

Flapped vulgar off the brick

Thudding asses on the concrete

Reeking fat and infant cherubs,

skin red and smacking thick the concrete

In this angel's rain,

Leaking and porous,

Collecting at the low point,

And we sing the light reflected

When the lamp beside the bed goes out.

I've swelled this magic

I have forgotten to live.

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