Ashtray
This world is our molten ashtray,
Revolving life, its stained glass grey
From passionate years, burnt away
Like shedding loose skin, smothered in
Smoking hordes by fresh flaming sin,
Yellowed fingers, where to begin?
Shredded leaves blaze under dry moon,
Clarity calls and leaves next noon,
Too close, yet too much, and too soon...
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