Glide

Glide

Between The Buried And Me

May I have this dance?
It nervously asks
The two glide into the heavy crowd
Awake this smile
Familiar
The comfort of being
We are everything

Time is irrelevant while
You’re in my arms, maker
The grid is done and we all
Slowly collapse around each other
Piles of flesh and wires
Create a mountain of memory

The Grid

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