Your fingertips the peaks of momentary mountains of plasma upon the sun the horizons of your toe-nails ancient little bronze cat's whiskers in which you see some fire-dry hands sculpting their own reflection of our rising sol stepping on your little toe and pissing till it shivers
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the horizons of your toe-nails ancient little bronze cat's whiskers
in which you see some fire-dry hands sculpting their own reflection
of our rising sol stepping on your little toe and pissing till it shivers
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