they are young
they are blood monsters they are gentle
they are young, and they know it
they are drawing all the whiled peace out they
are bleeding, they are fucking, they are cumming.
they are making all the time stop still they are
knowing. they were once extinct
they are turning.
they foam at the mouth, spit up,
as clean as a baby's
they are climbing. they are on
parade they are leaving.
they are climbing
out of windows, they smell of the season,
windows of houses of
the textbook bricks they learned about,
they are climbing they
are still alive.
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