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Sing

Hacking emotions, wear a mystic coat.
Heart of violet colour,
vine grapes mature.
Running wine of ecstasies and absence.

The sing, of crackling voices,
with hanging joy,
Of mans working the land with Coro of tired hands.
Of a fuelled mouth of warm bread,

Breeze blowing sweaty month trembling.
My teeth vibrate,
harps of carols voices.
Of shouting Childs, screaming wild.

I hear nature, in a circle ring,
of rosemary fleawort wind.
And grounds sweeten
from wild mint.

Listen to the butterfly wings,
swinging colour of harmony dreams.
The jump of a bullfrog,
hide weasels & applause.

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