in the depths of Hawkin's mind
the door that's never worked right
slides, sticks, slams.
Separates.
A sad exhiliration
overtakes.
the air is clear
the moon bright
the wind, softly
*Run away,
far away*
One heart pounds
the other weeps
gently, briefly
but the Yard holds tight
- no egress, no mercy
So Toughness comes
dominates Dream,
drags, drops; delineates
the in(t/f)ernal glow.
Go back,
Grab the bar.
It's what you do.
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