Banned from tears, banned even from entering exile,
be a legend, whether I’m dead of alive, doomed and
alone, no landscapes of glitter or expressionism, nothing,
no dancing, to dance the night away, no ballads, it’s
endless in the constancy of it all, nothing new, no
philosophy to read, nothing, Mozart is forgotten, I cannot
break out. For I ran into pocahontas and she pulled a
knife out and I wanted to die, seeing the romance of this
world drip and swept away in harsh currents.

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being told no