in a ranch of gray, behind the twins,
i think of you.
you are the stars, behind the clouds,
untouched, out of view.
a Play of yore, comes to trend,
beside your bed.
and a seed of mine, covered still,
inside your head.
will fade to bland, untouched,
starved, and unfed.
if i leave you, with my heart,
unlaunched, and bled.
i've heard of fate, in a story,
told to me.
between the sheets, i believed,
its fantasy.
but the doing, isn't done,
when we can pass.
this life off, with a remote,
made of glass.
and view charms, in the shade,
on our ass.
carving dreams, not from gold,
but of brass.
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