Continue On

The way your blood touches mine,

You'd think it were time,

That had stopped.

 

The sensation of god in the rapture of one free hand,

Raised to the sky above short bracelets and necklace,

It wasn't meant to be.

 

But oh how I grab onto the air in search of something,

To complete me,

Yet I lack again a leg to stand

 

So I must,

Continue on,

From dusk to day

◄ Let's begin again

Delinquent ►

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