Evening passing, rattling the roof,
Smoking—smoking their own murk,
But it is only momentary, before settling in the coffer of the dark,
The appendix of the evening as it lived.
Stare into the ground, do not say,
Oh, only gaze, ruining the coast of the vaunted coffer,
That puffed aloft to trade entries with the evening,
But only as it lived.
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