It was a mess around. Shredded glass, broken lights, dark and damp.
I strutted around, hands in my pockets.
Thinking, no way you can touch me.
I wont blink, I won't stop.
Surprised I was by the reasonless warmth.As by the yellow which robbed off the black.
Out of pockets the hands then came, meddling curiously all around.
I lost my gait, I lost my stride
I also lost the known darkness.
The unknown beauty is beautiful enough.
yet it shall for sometime be the unknown.
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