A light-hearted sadness
led you to my bed
a dark-minded gladness
kept you bled
another warm ego
whose skin I could shed
I could touch it everywhere
I could wear it out
in every sense
I could throw it away
and think of the past
as everything thrown away
the present as us
sorting anxiously
through mountains
of garbage for that
accidentally discarded
future I think it was
mauve you think?
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