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As Rain Begins to Fall on Angel’s Reach – Sonnet Seventy-Three
As rain begins to fall on Angel’s reach,
These L.A. lights cry L.A. stage play tears,
That spread from Acton to Redondo Beach,
In long goodbyes of spot lit morgue premieres.
As cold as table’s bone saw, scalpel steel,
As cold as bloodless desert death alone,
The missing days, the loves that nineteen feels,
A home that waits for word that Fate disowns.
But still from every town and hope, they fill
The Sunset, Hollywood, the Cal State 2,
From Century, Burbank, Beverly Hills:
To be the next, there’s nothing they won’t do.
I would not be surprised to find the guy
Still cumming in her mouth, his long goodbye.
These L.A. lights cry L.A. stage play tears,
That spread from Acton to Redondo Beach,
In long goodbyes of spot lit morgue premieres.
As cold as table’s bone saw, scalpel steel,
As cold as bloodless desert death alone,
The missing days, the loves that nineteen feels,
A home that waits for word that Fate disowns.
But still from every town and hope, they fill
The Sunset, Hollywood, the Cal State 2,
From Century, Burbank, Beverly Hills:
To be the next, there’s nothing they won’t do.
I would not be surprised to find the guy
Still cumming in her mouth, his long goodbye.
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