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Graze of Countless Rounds.

Out there, far
ahead, as the world
falls apart
around us, we meet
again.

Just blow me a kiss,

I would feel the force
of your gentile
breath graze
my lips.

Hope, as I see,
we fuck in the flames,
embrace one another
in the ashes.

Those knaves:
they will take me down
in the end,

not till we
have had our
moment.

And I
and you
and all of us,

we will be back
around again for literally
countless rounds
thereafter anyway.

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