A light dusting finds the meaning; two souls crash into me,
One intervenes, and one starts leaving.
Two holes, twofold, the blackest of the evenings.
I unscrew the cap loose, a bruise invokes the screaming.
I refuse to be the noose that ends all the seasonings.
What can make you better can also make you dreamy.
I tighten up my tie and proceed into work...

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