This is based on Exoenzyme.
From X To Y 5/29
Anything could fill those blanks
I like to think it is the space between our doors
That walk
along brownstone streets rotting edifice
Trees that drop endless flowers
I crave that space
the whiteness of it
the way it erases the day
From this bolted door to yours
I drop all the things like clothes falling from me
when I was little and it was raining
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