on these nights of fire I withhold water
on these nights of fire you will pray for rain
between walls under wood and brick
trapped by rain and wind
you and I talk about the weather
I’m at the mercy of my world
your hands grasp the axe
to the trunk of this family tree
a spoon that will not feed
I weigh as you do
borrowed mass and blood
a weak extension
cartel of the soul
I need a clause for this social contract
my fate is your freewill
you and I we’re kind of the same
craving to be different
indifferent to our lives
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