Cabarets

The moon burns hot
And your a liar
Swear you’re not
(Tongue’s on fire)

Painted mirrors
Naked skins
Streaming horrors
Breathing thin

Watch photos
Blood on camera phones
Sleeping solo
In beds not your own

Skin sinks fading
Like dying Mondays
Stringing pearls
Of gentle shadings and short-engagement cabarets

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