The sun rises, a tooth,
dull, sharp, not white
encoring a fast drying dream.
Everything in dust -
the boy's dirty kite tied to a handlebar, neon,
the rainbow an oil leak runs, neon as well,
small talk of music and letters means
be sincere, often neon.
In a place like this,
all covered in dust,
pixels so small they squeeze
between our own pixels,
dried then blown away, neon and dust probably.
marchish
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