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Winter Solstice

The chase, the speed-
the kill. How far you go to-
retrieve the dead horse
from the river.

Floating bridge, I
wanted to drink the
moon in red.

The chimes would not
winter- in falling snow.
Can you bring me some hot blood?

The ceramic arms spray
the liquid memories on the
grass, all night.

Later when the sky
fails, I will bring the
sun to wipe out the tears.
Satish written by

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