I do things out of good taste
And you detest the
space I create.
Bringing things with carried weight-
Gravitate away from
things I say.
My pounding rhythm is sounding hymns
About your limbs and their state
Sometimes the things I say come too late
The things I say
all coming too late
They come too late
They come too late
"Come too late"
They come too late
They come too late
"Come too late"
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