As I lay dying,
Cinderella tucked her knees,
into the house of September,
wishing the cotton woven starlight,
into his ember-ed arms,
love, for love,
as he
gathering the shadows from her,
spun black threads into her thoughts,
wishing, between her knees,
she would fill his house of September,
love, for love,
as I lay dying,
watching the two,
in the midnight ashes of the hour,
love, for love,
end the day.
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