Luddite clone

Oratory of a jigsaw

Luddite clone
When the teeth can hold back the gears when the stitches are all that hold
the scars together and the
lakes dry up like deserts is that when I will have my way when there is
nothing left to savour
I am sure that's how we'll be petty to the last drop broken to the last
breath damned till I fold
into quarters
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