digging a little darker,
a little floating
into the sumptuous chocolate
into the vault of ocelots
creating a thumb of pillars
a cradle of simplicity
crying inexorably
into the face
of the future
one two four seven
hexes like hand-grenades
cravings and corporates
plentiful parapets
political junkies
hysterical monkeys
eating out of your hand
nibbling a little too much
finger
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