Cross the velvet rope
and enter the bright black raspberry night
there’s not a cloud in sight
to interrupt views of statuesque night
golden cactus flowers send candy drop letters
to the green sprouts in the east
growing beneath the etched glass glow of cities
turned antique olive by the grime
when we extinct ourselves the sun will glow
bright again beneath our carcasses
and meadow flower yellow will rise
as skyscrapers fall
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