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Artifact
PROLOGUE
A sharp stick
In rough hands
Searching plains
To make bodies temples
Over wood fires
Quietly smokes rise
To industry
(and thanking, we ate)
Today struggle becomes clammy fingertips
Yearning for
The slick touch
Of some ancient bones
That time had turned to sludge
But we're
Always seeking
Always making new temples
...Thursday 9th June 2016 9:42 pm
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